


Accidental Perfidy

by EvilPeaches



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Dancing, Dark, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drug Abuse, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frottage, Graphic Description, Healing Past Wounds, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jealousy, Masturbation, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Psychological Drama, Slice of Life, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-10-17 19:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17566532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilPeaches/pseuds/EvilPeaches
Summary: Twenty-two year old Casey doesn't expect to meet someone she connects with at her Abuse Support Group. She never thought she would let anyone in, anyone beyond the protective wall she's meticulously built around her soul. Kevin is different though, different from other men. He understands her, understands her pain. For once, Casey thinks she can live freely again.Only, Kevin doesn't tell her everything.No. He left something out.Otherwise known as your boyfriend neglecting to mention he has DID.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I don't own Split or the characters. All belong to M. Night Shyamalan.
> 
> Notes: This is an AU in the matter that this is just a regular modern setting where we aren't concerning ourselves with superheroes and such. I wanted to examine how Casey would deal with being in a relationship with a man who ends up being more than just one man. This story is written in a 'Slice of Life' method, so we do pop through time with the characters quite a bit. This will get very explicit in the second chapter, just a warning :)

It starts out innocently enough.

Or, perhaps as innocent as going to an abuse support group can be. As unassuming on the surface, yet brimming with razor-sharp broken edges underneath. It was a simple whim, a moment of curiosity. Casey had only recently gotten her own apartment, escaped the suffocating pain of her Uncle’s home, and yet still found herself empty.

A wraith in her own new home, alone with her shame and her own disgusting flesh.

Her whole life has been filled of mishaps, of things that have happened _to_ her. Horrible things, terrible things. Things that she doesn’t want to dwell upon, but haunt her every night and during her waking hours.

Casey’s past is a ghost that never lets go.

What harm could come from going to a group for survivors? What harm could she possibly expose herself to, being surrounded by others who understand what trials she has been through?

Her heart is in the right place, but fate has other things in store. This is one case where she falls straight in the deep and has no one else but herself to blame.  


* * *

  
  
The group itself isn’t as liberating and freeing as Casey had thought it would be. She sits and listens intently, trying to see herself in others. Trying to make a connection. She’s given this a few tries already, but the weight on her chest still remains.

Suffocating her every day, baggage like a ball and chain.

She never offers up her own story, still clutching her horror close to her heart. A shame she doesn’t want anyone else to see. Their group organizer asks her to speak up a few different times, but she always shakes her head. She isn’t ready. She doesn’t know if she will ever be ready.

_Casey, Casey-bear, don’t you want to play a game? You know animals don’t wear clothes_

The sound of her uncle’s voice in her head makes her shudder. The stories of others pass her by in a blur, she’s too busy trying to repress her own memory.

After the group session lets out for the night, she pours herself a cup of coffee in their reception area, distantly listening to the different pairs of people speaking together, connecting in ways that seem almost foreign to her. Sighing into the disappointingly lukewarm cup of joe, Casey starts to turn around, preparing to leave when she nearly spills her cup all over another body behind her own.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” her voice trails off quietly as she finds herself looking up into the bluest eyes she has ever seen.

The man looks down at her with a slight smile, his eyes kind. He is quite a few years older than her, at least a decade more, but that certainly does not diminish the fact that she inherently sees that he’s very attractive.

“It’s alright. That coffee isn’t warm enough to do any damage. I would know,” he says with an even, gentle voice that Casey finds endearing.

 _I would know,_ Casey thinks over his comment miserably, the words hinting at darker things.

Then again, why else would he be here if not for having suffered something in his life?

Shy, nervous in front of his blue gaze, she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “The coffee isn’t the best.”

 _Is that the best you’ve got? You probably sound like an insipid child to him,_ Casey berates herself, flushing red.

His nose wrinkles as he looks at the coffee. “No, it isn’t, is it? It should be a crime, not being able to brew a decent cup of joe for a group of people.”

“I suppose it would make more sense for them to be handing out sleeping pills. I know I would prefer those; a nice dreamless sleep,” Casey says, wincing after a moment because now she probably sounds like a drug addict.

Instead of giving her an odd look, he laughs throatily. “Oh, you and me both. Some nights can be so bad that I sit there wondering what on earth I have to do to convince my doctor to give me something good.”

“Hey, are you guys getting coffee or are you just blocking it?” Casey and the guy both turn and find a few people looking rather grouchy about them blocking the coffee pot. The man places his hand on Casey’s shoulder and gently pushes her to the side, gesturing apologetically to the other group of people.

Casey smiles up at him hesitantly. She isn’t one to give her smiles often, but something about him makes her feel warm inside. There is no judgement in his gaze, just curiosity as he looks down at her. “I wonder what a good night of sleep feels like,” she says, wanting to keep the conversation going, but not sure what a man like him would like to talk about.

She feels so inadequate next to him.

“I wouldn’t know. I seem to lose track of time and sleep anyhow. But hey, I’m getting out of here to get a decent drink, none of this hogwash. Would you want to go get a coffee with me? If you don’t mind being seen with someone like me, that is.” He says this with a strange mix of confidence and nervousness, knowing what he wants but afraid she wants no part of it.

For a moment, Casey doesn’t know what to say, staring up at him with her doe eyes. Is he asking her out? _Her_? Knowing she is here, at this group for a reason? She is no angel, she is tarnished, yet this man wants to spend time with her.

Taking her hesitance as the beginning of rejection, his eyes dart sideways. “Or hot chocolate. If that’s what you prefer. I…uh…”

“You don’t care about…what happened to me…that I’m…?” Casey blurts it out, because she needs to know.

She wants to know how he can stand to look at her when she can barely stand looking at herself in the mirror.

He looks momentarily confused. “Well, you never mentioned anything during the session, so I can’t say I know. But. I can say that whatever happened to you isn’t _you_. And. You seem like a sweet girl. I’d like to buy you something that will keep you warm on your way home tonight.”

Every guy that Casey has ever dated never knew about her. They never knew why she flinched nervously at their expecting hands. Cringed away from their hungry gazes. It killed her, because she couldn’t overcome her own trauma, her own fears of intimacy due to what had happened to her. She couldn’t bear to tell them, she knew they would never understand. Every guy walked away from her, frustrated, pissed off. They called her frigid, cold.

A fucking prude bitch.

This is something different. This man, he knows there are broken pieces of her. She knows there are broken pieces inside of him, otherwise he wouldn’t be at this meeting. Perhaps…perhaps getting a drink with him wouldn’t be so bad. She’s got no one waiting for her at home after all, no furious Uncle John accusing her of whoring herself out to other men, men other than him just because she was out late.

“I’d like that. To go with you,” she finally answers, gazing up into those blue eyes.

He smiles slightly at her and nods his head towards the door. “I’m Kevin,” he says.

“Casey.”

They step into the cold winter night, stepping closer together as they start walking down the sidewalk. He’s a perfect gentleman, catching her when she slides on the ice in her heeled boots. She blushes as he rights her, offering his arm to her for support.

He’s so much different than the boys her own age.

They sit down in a local café and true to his word, he buys her a nice warm coffee. They sit down in one of the booths, sipping their drinks in relative silence until Kevin asks her if she has been to the group often.

Casey shakes her head. “No. This is maybe the third time I’ve gone. I keep…hoping to get something more out of it, but I’m not sure its been worth my time so far.”

Kevin shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve been going for a few weeks. My doctor thought it would be useful for me to see that I’m not alone with my issues. Granted, I’ve got some bad issues, but that’s a story for another day.”

Casey looks up at him shyly as she takes a sip from her cup. “You don’t look like you are struggling, for what it’s worth.”

He smiles at her and her heart beats a little faster. “Well, you know how it is; not all scars are visible.”

She knows this is true, but she is also littered with very physical scars all over her body.

“So, you see a doctor actively?”

Kevin nods, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been seeing her for many years.”

The idea of seeing a doctor has never appealed to Casey. She doesn’t enjoy talking about her history. “Does it help? Talking to a doctor?”

He laughs and the sound is like music to Casey’s ears. She feels like a fool, she’s known this guy for half an hour and she’s already feeling loopy over him. She’s never this stupid. “I find it useful to have a doctor. I’m not sure what I would do without one,” he says. “Don’t you have one?

Shaking her head, Casey looks off into the café vacantly. “I don’t really talk much. About the past.”

She can’t afford one anyway, not without Uncle John.

“Ah. The strong and silent type, huh? I knew you had a mysterious aura around you.”

They spend another hour talking about safe things. Casey finds him so genuine, so real and touchable. There is something raw and vulnerable to him and she’s never felt so drawn to someone before.

“Thanks, for the coffee. And. For asking me to come here with you,” she says softly as they walk out the front door.

She doesn’t want this moment to end. She’s never _really_ had a real friend, certainly not one cut from the same cloth. Casey knows she will keep going to the stupid group just to see him again. She’s like a school girl all over again with a stupid, foolish crush. Crushing on the untouchable older man none the less.

Kevin is looking at her with those gentle sea blue eyes and he brushes a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Can I see you again?”

The organ in her chest stops beating momentarily. “You…you want to see _me_? Again?” Her voice is so mouse-like and she is horrified at herself.

He laughs, that beautiful sound. “Of course, you. How does your Friday look?”

Friday is empty. Saturday is empty. Sunday is empty. He can have them all as far as she is concerned. Casey bites her lip and tells him Friday night looks open, but she will check her calendar when she gets home.  


* * *

 

They go to the café again, sitting and chatting about music and books they’ve read. Figuring out if they watch any of the same popular tv shows. Talking about feelings. Things Casey normally doesn’t get to talk about. They agree to see each other again, trading phone numbers.

It feels like a small victory.

Now, when Casey wakes up in the mornings and goes to work, she doesn’t feel like she’s trying to convince herself that life is worth living.

*

They go to the movies a different time and her heart pounds the whole time, wishing he would do more than hold her hand. She wants him to lean over and press his lips to hers, she wants to taste the inside of his mouth and the feelings are inexplicable.

She wants like she has never wanted before.

He puts his arm around her and she can smell his cologne. She wants to bury herself in him, her face pressed to his neck. He swallows audibly, but continues to watch the movie, a gentlemen to the end.

Casey wishes he wasn’t. A gentleman, that is.

She tells herself it’s only their third date, but she is hungry and she doesn’t know why.

She’s never felt like this before.

*

Kevin takes her to the zoo, where he works. He takes her behind the scenes, shows her the animals up close, let’s her observe the tigers from the employee porch. She’s thrilled being so close to all these predators.

Casey loves wildlife despite the reminder it gives her of her past in the forest. Of her Uncle.

The animals represent survival to her. Being strong and surviving.

She hugs Kevin when they leave, pressing her lips to his chin because she can’t reach his lips. He makes a noise in his throat and she finds her lips pressed against his, his strong arms pressing her against his body.

Heat floods her veins at the gentle caress of his lips on hers, his tongue stroking against hers in a way that makes her core clench embarrassingly. She’s never felt this before. Never for anyone else.

She’s never wanted anyone else to touch her. Not like this.

She’s always been too afraid and she’s never trusted anyone enough.

*

When he comes to see her apartment a month later, she is utterly nervous.

It’s her place and he’s an adult man. What if he thinks she is a slob? She spends most of the day cleaning everything she can, trying to get rid of the clutter here and there. She lights some candles, trying to make it smell beautiful in the entire place.

Kevin shows up at seven and presses a kiss to her nose, then her lips. “I’ve missed you,” he breathes against her skin.

They cook dinner together, making a mess all over again.

“I’m not very good at this,” Kevin says, wiping pasta sauce off of the back of the stove where it had splattered.

“Be quiet, you’re perfect.” Casey smacks him with a towel and screams when he turns to chase her over to the couch.

He tickles her mercilessly, pinning her into the cushions. When they are breathing hard, he pauses, looking down at her with serious blue eyes. Casey’s heart is pounding out of her chest as he slides his hand behind her neck and presses his hips against hers.

A shuddering sigh escapes her lips at the feeling, him pressed against her through the layers of their jeans. His hips roll against hers and heat courses through her stomach in a wave. She presses up against him, wanting more of that sensation.

He groans in his throat, his lips tasting her mouth hungrily as his body completely covers hers. For a moment it feels unerringly good, but when his hands travel to her breasts, creeping up under her shirt, Casey tenses nervously, panting.

He might see her ugly, hideous scars. Just pieces of her shame, written across her body. Her mind flashes to another body, her Uncle’s large form pressing her into the floor harshly while she cries and begs him to stop hurting her.

Casey goes cold, frozen in the moment. She pushes Kevin away, his eyes flashing in surprise.

“What…did I do something wrong?”

Letting out a shaky breath, Casey covers her face in humiliation. Would she ever get past the horror? Would she ever be able to be truly physical with this wonderful, kind man?

She wants to give herself to him, but she’s so terrified.

“I just had a flashback. I’m sorry. I’m working on it,” she says, too embarrassed to look at him.

Her body is still hungry for his, but her mind is paralyzed in the past.

He adjusts himself in his jeans, his face red. “I know how that is. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe it will help?”

She shakes her head. Not tonight, she’s not talking about it.

 

* * *

 

Two months after their initial meeting, he takes her back to his place. His apartment isn’t the nicest, but it is bigger than hers. There is a sense of chaos in his place that isn’t something she would have expected of him. So many coats, shoes, a few different closed off rooms. She doesn’t comment, she’s too thrilled at being with him, the fact that he even wanted things to progress with her.

They lay on the couch, pressing against each other, theirs mouths fused together. An hour passes this way, his hands occasionally trying to get past the top of her jeans. Casey pushes his hand away every time, a moment of cold anxiety echoing in her mind every time he tries to expose more of her. She tries to push it down, keep the unreasonable fear at bay.

She can hear her Uncle in her head, telling her to not be a tease. It makes her sick to her stomach.

“Is this not okay?”

The fact that he asks endears him to her, calming her nervous heart. “It’s…not you. I just. I’m still not ready. I’m sorry, I thought I was. I’m trying so hard. Things have happened to me…that make me a little nervous. I just don’t want anything with you to be tainted by those memories.”

He sighs and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Hey, don’t be sorry. I’m ready when you are.” She can tell. The evidence of his eagerness is pressed against her leg, hot even through their clothes. He continues speaking, “But, I’m telling you, it helps to talk this stuff out. You don’t want it to haunt you. I can help you, I understand your suffering.”

That night she tells him about her Uncle. His eyes don’t turn hard with disgust. He strokes her hair and murmurs encouraging words to her, telling her how he’s there for her for however long she needs.

It feels like a weight has been lifted from her chest.

*

Days slowly turn into weeks and those blur into months.

They grow closer than they thought possible, two broken people too afraid to share themselves with anyone else.

Keys are exchanged.

Secrets are shared.

All except one secret. The one that should have been shared.

The only secret that really mattered.  


* * *

 

One fateful afternoon, Casey drives over to Kevin’s house, carrying a few movies in her bag. She got off work early and can’t think of anywhere she would rather be. His condo is on the third floor of the somewhat run-down building. It’s close to the zoo, which is all he really cares about, considering his early morning start.

Fumbling with the keys, she takes the elevator up to his floor. She’s a bit early, but she hopes he won’t mind. She can always put on a pot of coffee and wait for him to get home. She knows he will be tired, he had a 4AM shift in the morning.

She enters his front door quietly, taking her work heels off at the doorway.

He’s sitting haphazardly on the couch, wearing a hat she’s never seen on him. On his lap is a large sketchpad, also something she’s never seen Kevin whip out before.

Noticing that she has walked in, he raises his eyes to look her over. A wide grin splits his face, charismatic and open. “Hey there, baby. You’re here early today.”

 _Baby?_ The pet name stops Casey in her tracks and she frowns at him. Kevin has never called her that. “Excuse me?”

The Kevin who isn’t quite Kevin leaps up off of the couch and sets the sketchpad down as he makes his way over to her with a certain swaggering motion. “Oh, honey, what is that look you are giving me? We really did think you were coming a bit later…”

His mannerisms are different, even the sound of his voice. A bit higher in tone. Casey takes a step back and frowns at him, feeling unsettled. He cocks his head to the side, noting her expression. “Do you want some tea? I can make it for you, if you want. You look a little pale, sweetie. I’ve got a really nice jasmine green around here somewhere…”

 _Baby. Honey. Sweetie. What the hell is going on here,_ Casey thinks furiously. “Is this some kind of joke? Who _are_ you? A relative? Or are you playing a game on me?”

Those beautiful blue eyes go wide with shock. “Oh. Oh dear. You don’t know, do you? _Shit_. I messed up. Why do I always open my big mouth?”

None of what he is saying is making her feel any better. “What don’t I know? _Where_ is Kevin? Who _are_ you?”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly with a frozen smile, looking at her with some form of pity in his gaze. Casey _hates_ pity. “I’m Kevin. I mean, I’m not _exactly_ Kevin, but-”

Rage flashes in Casey’s inner eye, red and furious. She doesn’t like games. She doesn’t like being teased. This feels like every other guy who has ever let her down hard or gave her the run around. The feeling makes her insides turn to acid.

If he didn’t want to be with her anymore, he should have just said so. She doesn’t need the theatrics. She hates theatrics.

“Don’t even both with the song and dance, I’ll just go,” Casey snaps at him, interrupting his sentence.

“Wait!! Casey, baby don’t leave. I’ll explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain!” Casey trudges back towards the front door, face red. “I get it, you’re done with me and don’t know how to tell me. I’m just a silly little girl to you, a silly girl with a lot of baggage.”

His hands grab her arms and he physically stops her from opening the door. “Baby, no! I want you to stay. You mean so much to us. Leaving is _literally_ the last thing I want you to do.”

It only takes Casey a moment to realize his cologne is even different. The scent of this man isn’t even the same. Could it be a twin? Huffing, she says, “What is going on here.”

Not-Kevin is looking down at her with this dismayed expression, frozen on his face. “We have DID and were too embarrassed to tell you.”

Casey blinks. “ _We_? DID? What is that supposed to mean? Is that an STD of some sort?”

He shakes his head wildly. “No, no definitely not! It’s Dissociative Identity Disorder. Caused by trauma. Kevin has multiple personalities, or alters. I’m one of them. I’m Barry, honey.”

The words are floating around Casey’s head, but none of them are making sense. “You’re Kevin. But not Kevin.”

Barry Who Is Not Kevin nods firmly. “He was embarrassed. Kevin didn’t want you to know. I’m sorry. I thought he would have told you by now though, seeing how he gave you a key. He’s never given anyone a key. You’re special.”

“I think I need to sit down,” Casey mutters.

_How is this real life? She’s heard of people suffering vile abuse, splitting their mind into pieces to escape the pain. She never thought she would meet a real-life person with multiple personalities though. It would just be her luck; the first guy she ever felt close to just had to be more broken than her._

Barry Who Is Not Kevin quickly escorts her back to the couch and sits down next to her, though not as close as Kevin would have sat beside her. It is like being with a complete stranger. “I know this is a lot to take in. Kevin thought you were coming later, he’s not in the Light right now. In control, I mean. He was letting me work on my drawings, I have to get them ready for submission this weekend. He didn’t think you would show up with me here…”

Casey nods numbly. She isn’t sure she is on board with this situation. It was like having two boyfriends, except they shared the same body. “How many of you are there?”

Barry grins nervously. “I mean, baby, there are a couple of us. But you probably won’t meet most of us. Unless you want to.”

Something in his tone makes Casey narrow her eyes. “How many of you are there, Barry?”

He winces, coughs into his fist. “Uh. Like twenty-three or so.”

Casey scoffs and looks at the house plant beside her. This would explain all the tooth brushes she saw in Kevin’s medicine cabinet. The different boxes of clothes. All the damn coats in his closet. She shakes her head and says, “Unbelievable.”

Barry snaps his fingers, looking at her intently. “My historical knowledge of you, strictly through Kevin, tells me that you are immensely grouched-out by this, but being grouchy doesn’t mean you are mad. You’re prickly. You’re like Dennis, but not quite. You’re much better. _Much_ better, honey. I mean, you’re not really like him at all. Not even a bit. You’re sweet, that’s what I’ve heard. I-”

Breathing out slowly, Casey turns to look at the man that’s she been dating even though he isn’t Kevin at the moment. She makes a choice and says, “Barry, you talk too much. Can you be quiet through any of these movies?”

She lifts her bag up, exposing the DVDs to his view. His jaw works slowly as he looks between her and the bag. “So, you’re not leaving us?”

Running a hand through her hair, Casey shakes her head, can’t tear her eyes away from his earnest, hopeful gaze. “Not yet. We will see how this works.”

 _What’s one more wrench thrown in my life?_  


* * *

 

“Did you ever plan on telling me?”

They are in bed later that night, nightclothes on, Barry now long gone. Kevin has his arms around her and this time it feels familiar. Her mind is still in a whirl, cannot believe that only hours before the man next to her was someone else entirely.

She isn’t completely sure that she has come to terms with this yet. She’s willing to try, she’s willing to try for Kevin though.

He sighs, his chest moving against her back. His breath caresses the nape of her neck and she shivers. “I was afraid you would leave me. If you knew.”

Casey turns in his arms to stare up at him. “You really thought you could hide something like this forever? From me?”

Kevin’s face is serious as he looks down at her. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to. But I wanted to. I’ve been dead inside for years and something about you makes me want to keep living. You mean so much to me, you don’t even know.”

When he talks like that, she can barely hold onto her anger. He’s told her some of what he recalls of his abuse. It makes sense now, how he says some of it is blacked out. That he doesn’t remember everything, how he left his body at times during the worst of it.

His lips brush against her skin, sending goosebumps up and down her flesh. “You’re so strong,” he whispers. “I admire you so much.”

Sitting up in the sheets, Casey runs a hand over his scalp, enjoying the scrape of his close-cropped hair. “Stop flattering me. You’re strong as well, you’ve survived torture. The things your mother put you through…that is the stuff of nightmares.”

He shakes his head, gazing up at her sadly. “I’m not the strong one. That’s always been someone else.”

“Who?”

Rolling onto his back, Kevin sighs at stares up at the ceiling. “Someone I hope you never meet.”

The idea that he has an alter he doesn’t want her to talk to is unnerving. Tensing, Casey asks, “Why would you say something like that?”

He runs a hand over his eyes. “I wouldn’t want you to hate me.”  


* * *

 

Life turns a little strange in the following weeks, but Casey rolls with the punches.

On a Saturday that Kevin has off from the zoo, she wakes up next to a child. His lisp is painfully obvious and he carries himself like young boy, slouching and sullen. “I’m Hedwig. Nice ta meet chu.”

Casey splutters and looks down at herself. She’s in a tank top with no bra, in just her underwear. Her and Kevin still haven’t gone ‘all the way’, but they have certainly made progress. “How old are you?”

“I’m nine, sillyyy. Can’t you tell? I see your underwear!! Haha!! Want to see mine, et cetera?”

“No. NO! Keep your shorts on. Don’t look, no, don’t look at me. Inappropriate. I’m getting changed.” Casey crawls out of the bed, arms crossed over her chest. Her nipples are hard, poking through the thin material of her tank top and she feels like a monster being like this next to a child.

Not that she was by a child last night, she was beside a full-grown man.

When she is clothed properly, she finds him dressed in a yellow track suit, jamming out with some large headphones on. When he sees her, he grins widely, so open and innocent. “Heyyy! Do you like Drake? Kanye? Those are my boyz. You shuld see my moves. They are sick!”

He grabs her hand and enthusiastically drags her to the main living space. He fumbles with a boom box and wild dance music begins to blast loudly.

Hedwig does indeed have sick moves and Casey can’t help but laugh and smile as he jumps and turns all over the room. He grabs both of her hands and asks her to dance with him.

“I can’t dance,” Casey laughs.

“Don’t be stoopid. Evryone can dance!”

Sighing, she goes to the boom box and flips through a few songs until she gets to a pop song that she likes. She grabs her coffee off the counter and takes a sip, helping her to wake up further as she sways her hips to the song.

Hedwig claps his hands excitedly.

His huge grin builds her confidence. She has never danced in front of anyone before. She’s never even gone to school dances. She lets herself go with the song and tosses her head side to side, letting her long dark hair flip through the air as she bounces around.

She turns a few times, enjoying the beat. The thrum of the bass is deep and she finds that this dancing thing is _fun._ Maybe she should have dance sessions with Hedwig more often.

On her next turn, she looks at Hedwig and freezes, because his expression has suddenly changed. His posture is tall, no longer slouched, shoulders squared powerfully. He’s blinking at her as if he can’t quite see her, taking a step forward as his tongue wets his lips.

Embarrassment floods Casey in a wave; this isn’t a boy anymore.

He takes another step closer, inhaling harshly, seemingly struggling with something. Casey is frozen in her place, unsure of what to do, but distinctly nervous. She feels like prey.

Suddenly, the body posture changes once more, softening as Kevin’s body absently clutches at the collar of the track suit. “Oh, no, none of that now. Control yourself.”

The accent sounds prim and proper, that stance almost feminine. Casey gazes in shock with her mouth open. Is there a woman in his body too? Is that even possible?

This new alter looks down at the track suit in distaste before looking at Casey again. “Sorry about that. He’s trying to behave, but you do make it difficult. Kevin has such strong feelings for you.”

“Who…who are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m Patricia. Don’t look so nervous, my little dove. I’m here now. Come, I’ll make you breakfast. Hedwig isn’t capable of even feeding himself, let alone you. You must be starving.”

Casey nods absently. Three alters in one morning. It was like a rollercoaster that never ended.

  
***

  
Time passes in this fashion, but for the most part Casey only sees a mix of Kevin, Barry, and Hedwig. Patricia makes appearances one in a while, attempting to mother Casey in ways that slightly disturb her.

She’s not sure how she feels seeing a woman in Kevin’s body.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave me,” Kevin says one night as they watch tv together.

Casey feels like she’s gotten more than she bargained for.

  
***

  
A few weeks later, the weather hits record lows. Her car breaks down in the snow and Casey buries her head in her hands. This is the last thing she needs. A broken car. How is she going to get to work tomorrow? She can’t rely on Kevin, his job at the zoo always had him up so early every morning, before the sun even rises.

Casey can’t even afford to fix a major break.

 _You can always ask Uncle John for help. He will help you._ This traitorous side of her mind makes her ill. She knows she is right, he would help her, but she wants nothing to do with him anymore. Getting a loan from him would only put her right back under his thumb.

_I’ll figure it out. I’ll budget tight this week. I’ll get through this just like I’ve gotten through a hell of a lot worse._

The car begins to get cold, forcing Casey to make the call to one of the local auto shops. The black tights under her work skirt don’t keep her very warm and she’s shivering by the time the tow truck arrives. Her toes have nearly frozen in her black work heels, the shoes more fashionable than practical.

At the auto-shop, one of the sales reps calls her a cab to get home, letting her know that her car is going to have to stay the night and will be looked at in the morning. By the time she gets home, she’s a frozen mess, her hair thrown every which way by the cold winter air. She takes the stairs up to her apartment and unlocks the door, ready to open a bottle of vodka and drown her sorrows when she notices Kevin furiously scrubbing her kitchen with a rag, his back to her.

“Kevin,” she calls out, her tone warbling with tears.

She just wants to run into his warm arms and grab the bottle of vodka. His back stiffens at her words and he turns to look at her as she walks into the kitchen, traipsing in snow and mud with her boots. His brow is furrowed and his eyes are stormy behind glasses that Casey has never seen before.

“Look at the mess you just made. Take. Those. Off.”

The voice isn’t Kevin. Nor is it Barry. Or anyone she recognizes. It’s deep, growling, thickly accented. Casey has never been scared of Kevin before, sweet and kind Kevin, but this version of him intimidates her. She takes a step backwards, frozen in shock.

So much for getting wrapped up in Kevin’s arms. This man in Kevin’s flesh looks cuddly in no way, shape, or form.

He draws himself up, his shoulders square and his arms crossed menacingly. Casey needs no further prodding. She scurries back to the front door and takes her boots off quickly. “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” she says softly, hating the meekness of her tone.

As she walks back towards the kitchen with hesitation, she feels the way his eyes examine her, head to toe. His gaze is like a physical touch and she gets the impression that he is mentally undressing her. He inhales sharply as he focuses on her skirt and tights, his face darkening with displeasure. “You’re two hours late. Where were you, dressed like that?”

Casey almost chokes. He’s complaining about how she is _dressed?_ He’s got an internal curfew for her, like he has any right? Like she belongs to him?

Glaring, Casey snaps, “Who are you, my father?”

He steps closer, setting the cleaning rag down. This man towers over her in a way that Kevin and his other alters don’t and Casey suddenly feels so small before him. His eyes are a dark blue, furious and filled with fire. His muscles are taut, pulling at his shirt. “No,” he growls, “but even so, I wouldn’t allow you to dress like a whore in the middle of winter.”

The air goes out of Casey’s lungs in a rush.

Rearing back from him with eyes wide, Casey does the only thing she can think of; she slaps him. “You’re disgusting,” she cries out, tears stinging her eyes.

Those are words that would have never crossed Kevin’s lips.

She darts past him and runs into her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She’s had enough for one day. First, her car just has to break down on her, now her boyfriend is inhabited by an asshole. She curses that she can’t just be with the man she wants to be with, the one that makes her feel safe and warm.

Casey faintly thinks on the posture of the alter in the other room, the way he looked at her. She’s met this one before, she thinks. Briefly. Momentarily. When she danced with Hedwig, this could only be the one that had appeared for a few moments before Patricia sent him packing. She’ll never forget that hungry and covetous gaze that made her feel like a possession.

It feels like a betrayal. She tries to reason with herself, it isn’t Kevin who is making her feel this way.

Not for the first time, she wishes Kevin was just Kevin and that he was a normal man in love with a normal girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I don't own the characters or Split. They all belong to M. Night Shyamalan.
> 
> Notes: Alright...so this is actually Part 1 of Chapter 2. The chapter I had planned as chapter 2 ended up being nearly 10,000 words by itself, so I am only posting the first half in this chapter. Unfortunately, this makes me a fibber because now all the explicit stuff got pushed to the next chapter. Super sorry about that...but believe me, it's written :)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your awesome encouragement and kind words! I'm so thrilled you are all enjoying this so far.

It feels like forever that Casey stares at the wall opposite her, sitting on her bed, frowning darkly. The room is dark and the only sound she can hear is the heat blowing through the vents. Tears have dried on her cheeks, but fury and humiliation still churn her stomach.

Roughly an hour after the incident, a gentle knock sounds on her bedroom door. The sound washes over her and bounces off like a pebble; she’s too far gone to care at this point. She doesn’t answer.

There is a sigh. “Casey? Casey. I…uh…ordered pizza. From that place you like so much. They’re delivering in an hour.”

The voice is even, calm. Kevin. Ridiculously, her heart gives a weak patter at the sound of his voice. Despite the fact, she continues to remain still with no intention of opening the door. She’s had enough for one day. He can blow her through the door for all she cares.

A gentle thud sounds against the door and Casey imagines it to be Kevin resting his forehead against the wood. “Casey, will you just talk to me? I don’t know what happened or what’s wrong. This isn’t fair.”

The sorrow and confusion in his tone kills her. She knows it isn’t fair, but life isn’t fair. How is it fair that his alter can verbally abuse her and then Kevin can come along like nothing happened? She wipes a hand over her face, making sure her cheeks aren’t still wet from crying. She’s sure her eyes are a right fright. Crawling off the bed stiffly, she walks over to the door and opens it slowly, blankly looking up at Kevin.

He looks surprised by her disheveled appearance. “Casey. You look…um…”

“I look awful. I know. And I look like a whore too, apparently,” she deadpans.

Kevin blinks, his head jerking back in shock. “What? Why would you say something like that?”

Biting her cheek and holding down a sob, Casey shakes her head at him, stomping past him into her main room. The tv room and the kitchen are absolutely spotless and Casey feels like laughing like a maniac, seeing evidence that what had happened earlier was real.

She can hear Kevin’s footsteps behind her as he follows her from room to room. “Casey, I’m serious. Did I say something to you? Did I…hurt you?”

His voice breaks on the last bit.

Turning on her heel, Casey comes face to face with his imploring eyes, that puppy dog look of his. He looks like one of those dogs that she sees in those abuse commercials, the ones begging you to come save the poor animal from an awful fate.

That’s what he reminds her of and _it isn’t fair_ in the slightest. He doesn’t have the right to look like that after wronging her!

“I’ve had an awful day, Kevin. My car broke down after work. I got stuck in the cold and had to get towed to the shop. They don’t know what is wrong and I don’t think I can afford to fix it, whatever the issue is.”

“Casey-”

“I had to catch a cab just to get home. When I…I got…home.” She pauses to draw in a shaky breath. Kevin looks sick. “When I got here, _you’re_ here. I was so happy, I just wanted to curl up in your arms and forget about my crap day, but it turns out it wasn’t you.”

Sighing, Kevin looks around the apartment, no doubt noting the unusual cleanliness. “Dennis. _Shit_. I’m sorry. I know he’s rough around the edges-”

 _Rough around the edges?_ “He called me a whore, Kevin!”

Groaning in frustration, Kevin runs his hands over his face in abject misery. “This is what I’ve been dreading. I never wanted you to meet him. He’s not…sensitive to these things.”

Sitting down on the couch, Casey stares at him coldly. He doesn’t get it, doesn’t seem to understand how hard this is for her. How can she look at him and not see the other, just beyond sight. “I don’t want to see him again. Please, if you care about me at all, you will keep him out of the light.”

To her horror, Kevin’s jaw goes slack as he looks at her with a hopeless gaze. “Casey…I can’t promise that. I can’t promise you that you won’t see Dennis again.”

Sniffling, Casey stares up at him, her dark eyes wide. “That’s not good enough, Kevin. He scares me. He looks at me like I’m meat. You have no idea what that feels like.”

Kevin closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. “He’s not me. You understand that, right? You know I would never hurt you.”

Stars burst into flame in Casey’s mind, setting off her anger again. “But he is you! How can you say that with a straight face? He’s in your body, he wears your face! It’s your lips that shape his words and your eyes that look at me with him behind the wheel!”

There is the sinking sensation in her heart that this isn’t going to work. Casey can put up with the others, the kind alters. And the weird ones, considering Patricia. But Dennis makes her feel powerless and small and Casey swore she would never allow someone to make her feel that way again.

Not after her Uncle.

As if seeing her doubtful thoughts, Kevin kneels down on the floor in front of her, clasping her small hands in his. His eyes are painfully blue, shining as if he is holding back tears of his own. Perhaps he is. In a small voice, Casey whispers brokenly, “How do you think it makes me feel, seeing him with your face?”

He places his head face down on their clasped hands, inhaling raggedly. “I can’t change who I am. I’m not strong, not like you. Dennis came to life during my worst suffering, he took the brunt of the abuse I suffered. There are days, even now, that I can barely cope with reality. A small thing, like a sound or a scent, can take me to a dark place. A simple reminder can send me into a tailspin and he’s the one who holds the pieces of me together.”

Putting her hands on his head, Casey stares down at him. None of what he said made her feel any more confident about this situation they had found themselves in. “You’re not weak, Kevin. You don’t need him to keep you together. I know you’re better than that.”

Kevin pulls away and looks up at her from his place on the floor. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m broken. I’ll never be totally whole or put together. But I try my best and I try really hard for you. You have no idea how hard it is trying to keep control all the time, trying to stay in the light. I’m _weak_. I kept Dennis from you as much as I could because I knew you would clash. I’m so, so sorry that he upset you.”

The doorbell rings loudly and Kevin sighs, inhaling audibly.

 _Saved by the bell_ , Casey thinks darkly, watching him get up to go tip the delivery boy.

They eat in relative silence. The pizza tastes like ash in Casey’s mouth and she swallows it numbly. “I’m hanging by a thread, Kevin. I’m getting stretched thin with this,” Casey admits, staring down at the grease on her plate.

He pales slightly. “You want to end this, don’t you?”

Her stomach cramps at his words and she knows that deep down she isn’t ready to put everything to rest. She can’t let him go. She wishes she could, oh, how she wishes it were just that easy. “No. I don’t,” she mutters.

As much as Casey loved being alone before, she didn’t want to face being alone without him anymore.

Kevin presses his lips to the crown of her head, his scent in her nose. It is only slightly ruined by the fact that she can still smell cleaning supplies all over him, a blunt reminder of who he could turn into at the drop of a hat. “What is the deal with your car? I’d take you to work, but I still have the 4AM shift tomorrow morning. I could pick you up from work though? Tell me what I can do to help you.”

“I don’t think I can afford to get my car fixed.” She can sense him trying to change the subject from a mile away and Casey isn’t amused.

He looks at her seriously, understanding in his eyes. “Maybe it won’t be that bad. I can help you a bit if it is.”

“I couldn’t possibly take that kind of money from you. I go to the shop tomorrow after work. I’ll see what they say.”

“It’s the least I can do for you, after tonight.”

Casey turns to scowl at him. “I’m hurt, extremely hurt and upset by what you did to me earlier. Your money is not going to flush that away. Stop trying to avoid the real issue!”

Kevin runs a hand over his face, clearly stressed. Then he turns to look at her, the muscles of his face relaxing dramatically. Then his eyes brighten in excitement. “Whoa, no way! This is your pwace, Casey? It’s really cleeean. Will you read me a bedtime story, et cetera?”

A bomb goes off in Casey’s mind. Of _course_ , he _would_ duck and dodge in the face of confrontation. “Dammit, Kevin!”

“Hey, I’m not Kevin. I’m Hedwig. Et cetera.”

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

* * *

  
  
Though Hedwig falls asleep with Casey the night before, hogging half of the bed and grasping at her like a teddy bear, he is gone before she even wakes. Some other alter – or Kevin – takes their body off to work. She sighs into the empty sheets and figures it is better this way; she didn’t particularly want to see Kevin, still smarting from the previous night’s events.

She feels a hint of depression nagging at the edges of her psyche, but she throws a wall against it, trying to keep it at bay. Casey has a straight-razor hidden in one of her bathroom cabinets. It’s there for when she needs it, but she hasn’t needed it for some time.

The sharp, cold slide against her flesh. The slow trickle of crimson.

Blinking away the visceral thoughts, she tries to motivate herself into getting ready for the day faster. She can’t allow herself to get sucked down a black hole of misery and doom. She’s got to take care of herself, she doesn’t have anyone else to do it for her.

She’s got to be strong.

She calls a cab and goes to work. She’s an executive assistant for one of the senior managers at the tech firm, in charge of managing his meetings, calendar, and forwarding his calls as needed. She never thought a man could be a full-time job, but there it is. He’s nice, kind. He’s so driven that she worries that he takes his family for granted, working so much.

Uncle John paid for a few years of community college for Casey, but she didn’t have the money to go to a full-time four-year university. Her job pays decently, but not a lot. She finds it comforting and familiar though, to worry about someone else. Less time to dwell on herself. She prefers that.

Not thinking about herself.

She takes yet another cab after work to get to the shop, bemoaning the frigid cold weather. Normally, she could easily walk around the city, but below 20 degrees was simply too biting to deal with. The sales rep greets her and takes her over to her car when she arrives. It’s up on a rack and Casey figures that isn’t a positive thing.

“There’s been some damage to the engine and the starter. It needs to be repaired. We are looking at roughly three grand for labor and parts together.”

Casey chokes on a laugh that isn’t friendly or happy. That’s really not part of her budget, it is way beyond. “Do you have any payment plans?”

She’s still got to pay rent and feed herself.

He nods with understanding. “Yes, we can absolutely work something out. You’re John’s niece, aren’t you? Practically family. I’ll help you out.”  
  
Great. Just what she needs; another friend of Uncle John’s. The man had a hoard of friends, all of them just as oblivious as the last.

The sales rep walks her through some of the options for payments and leaves her to look them through. _This sucks,_ she thinks absently.  
  
The sales rep returns, checking in on her. “We are going to have to keep the car another night. I called your Uncle John, he’s an old high school buddy of mine. He said he would come pick you up and get you home so you wouldn’t need to pay for another cab.”

The sound of rushing water momentarily blots out all sound for Casey. Her heart pounds uncomfortably in her head and the sound of his cajoling voice in her mind makes her stomach turn as if she is being force fed raw meat. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says flatly, blankly.

She wants to scream and tear her hair out of her scalp. Time slows as she looks around the shop, her car still lifted up on a rack. Escape is the only thing running through her mind. Every exit flashes in her mind, but the ice cold outside halts her flight. She doesn’t have a warm enough coat on, nor does she have a hat. She would freeze long before she made it away from the shop.

The sales rep doesn’t notice her inner turmoil. “He was totally cool with it, said he would do anything for his beloved niece. Should be here in fifteen minutes or so.”

Almost on autopilot, Casey quickly texts Kevin, despite being sour towards him still. _Can you please pick me up at the autoshop on Main? They called my Uncle._

 _On my way,_ he texts back after a minute.

Sweat runs down Casey’s spine despite the chill of the shop. She feels a tremble coming to her fingers, so she clenches them hard. She can’t get in a car with Uncle John. She _can’t_. He would take her back to her apartment, he’d know where she lives, he’d make up some story about wanting to see the inside of her place. He would follow her upstairs. Her stomach turns so violently that she fears she may throw up.

Minutes pass by with the thud of Casey’s heart as she tries to hold in her panicked breath. Then, the sound of a car door thudding shut makes her freeze, because she isn’t sure who it is. Until-

“Casey-bear! You stubborn girl, you should have told me you needed help! Sweetie-bug, let’s go, I’ll pay for the fix up.”

Her eyes drift shut in horror. Casey’s mind races, looking for routes of escape, thinks of every outcome she can for every reaction she can muster up. Her fight or flight instinct always defaults to flight first, fight when cornered. She is suddenly encased in a warm hug, surrounded by familiar arms that are huge in size. Uncle John.

Distantly, she knows he loves her, but he loves her in the wrong way. The way he could act so hurt one minute, then take advantage of her the next. She wanted to love him, wanted to adore him. He was all she had left after her father died. Her emotions of hate, fear, hurt, and love all mixed into one huge mental drama that would haunt her forever.

She isn’t happy to see him, far from it. She likes Uncle John better when he is far away, when she can sort of forget how he smells like the forest and autumn bonfires.

“I have a ride, Uncle John. You didn’t need to come,” she says into his large shoulder as he hugs her tighter, lifting her off the ground briefly.

He sets her down on her feet, grinning at her widely. “Nonsense. Always so independent. You know there is no shame in letting family help you every once in a while.”

“I’m serious, I have a ride,” she starts out, but he waves over the sales rep.

The two men shoot the shit for a few minutes, laughing boisterously together. “You’ve got my tab, I’ll pay her bill. We gotta get out of here before the snow comes down harder.”

“Please don’t do that,” Casey whispers pleadingly.

Then, in the distance another car door shuts and Casey turns towards the door like a frightened doe. Kevin walks in, dressed smartly in a formfitting dark grey peacoat. She sees the moment he takes in Uncle John beside her, his eyes widening slightly. He cracks his neck absently, or that’s what it would have appeared as to the untrained eye.

Casey knows what she is seeing and inhales sharply when Kevin pulls a pair of glasses out of his pocket and puts them on, blinking as he does so.

Her stomach drops. She should have known; Kevin isn’t one for confrontation, he hides from it. She should have expected this. This is wrong, Kevin said she wouldn't see this alter again...but too late Casey realizes that Kevin said he couldn't promise her anything. Her throat tightens.

His posture changes and the dark expression that shapes his face as he looks at her Uncle speaks volumes.

She should have known. She tries to pull away from her Uncle but he holds on to her wrist. “Uncle John, my ride is here, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”  
  
The sales rep goes back to his register, oblivious to the power struggle between niece and uncle.

“Don’t be silly, Casey-bear. Stop causing trouble…wait. Who is he? Casey…”

“I already told you, I have a ride. He’s here. I’m leaving with him.”

“The hell you are. I don’t even know this guy.”

“Is there a problem, Sir?” Dennis, because that’s who it is based off the scowl and tone, pauses his approach a few feet away.

The way he stares Casey’s uncle down makes her want to hide. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to see that something bad was brewing here. Her Uncle looks him up and down, sizing him up. “You’re damn right there’s a problem. Who do you think you are, just waltzing on in and taking my niece home?”

The muscles in Dennis’s face twitch. His jaw works as he considers his words carefully, precisely. “I’m a friend, she texted me to come get her.”

Uncle John bitterly laughs, his hand tightening almost painfully on Casey’s wrist. “A friend? A _friend_. I highly doubt that, I do.” Uncle John looks down at Casey briefly. “What have to gotten yourself into, you little troublemaker?”

Disappointment is in his eyes and Casey loathes it when he acts like this. “You’re hurting my wrist, Uncle John,” Casey says, subtly trying to pull away from his grasp once more.

Dennis inhales hard, his nose flaring as his eyes focus on the grip on Casey’s person. “She wants you to let her go. I suggest you do it.”

Going red in the face, Uncle John glares. “Or what? What are you going to do about it? She’s my niece-”

One of Dennis’s eyebrows twitches and his eyes are akin to a storm over the sea. He steps forward until Casey can smell his cologne and see the vein throbbing in his temple. He’s furious and she’s terrified this will escalate. Neither man is backing down and both are posturing dangerously over what they believe is theirs.

The last thing she needs is for Kevin to get thrown in the slammer for assault. Dennis is clearly capable of it, violence written in the clenching of his jaw and fists.

His chest rising and falling hard, Dennis interrupts John in that low tone of his, “She’s coming home with me tonight.”

Casey isn’t even sure that he is aware of how inappropriate it sounds.

Shocked, Uncle John’s grip slackens slightly. Casey can only imagine what sort of hell he is seeing in that furious gaze. She steps away quickly, going to stand reluctantly beside her least favorite alter of Kevin. Eyes darting between the pair, Uncle John shakes his head in disbelief. “I see what’s going on here. Casey-bear, your father is rolling in his grave.”

The words are a low blow, Casey sees it for what it is. It’s meant to hurt her, guilt trip her. She’s hurt John’s feelings, now he’s going to bring her low too. The un-ending circle of abuse and broken emotions go around and round like a fucked-up carousel.

Casey wishes she could just step off the ride, but she is chained to horse she’s been riding for years.

She bites her tongue and chooses to not respond. She won’t give John the satisfaction. “Let’s go,” Dennis says, not looking at her.

With frazzled nerves, Casey turns and starts towards the exit of the shop, sensing Dennis right beside her.

“Robbing the cradle a bit aren’t we, asshole?” Uncle John sneers after them in a parting shot, furious. “Like them younger, huh?”

Casey flushes in embarrassment. She knows what it looks like, she’s well aware.

With finality, Dennis places his arm behind Casey’s shoulder, his hand encasing the nape of her neck in a firm, claiming grasp. An unpleasant look crosses his features, eyes flashing with self-loathing behind his glasses. He looks at John over his shoulder, but does not fully turn. “I guess it takes one to know one after all.”

Uncle John’s face goes white with rage or shock, Casey can’t tell, but she is more than happy to let Dennis guide her outside to his car, his controlling hand still on her neck.

A shudder wracks her body, but she holds it in the best she can.

He doesn’t let go of her until he places her in the passenger seat of the car. He even buckles her seatbelt for her. It’s so ridiculous that Casey wants to die, he’s so dominant and clearly wants to be in control of everything. She can feel the heat of him as he leans over her, snapping the buckle in with finality. Her skin burns even though there are a few inches between them.

She loathes him, the way he’s avoided looking at her this whole time, despite touching her like she’s _his_.

When he gets into the driver’s seat, he places his hands on the steering wheel, exhaling, still not looking at her. The silence is unbearable. “Can I have Kevin back, please,” Casey asks stiffly, looking forward at the snow.

Now he shifts his body, twisting at the hip to pin her with that intense gaze of his. Casey gets the distinct impression that he finds her to be a huge inconvenience. Like she’s put him out, making him come all the way out here to save her.

His eyes now catch on her coat and his hands spasm. Groaning, he runs a hand over his forehead anxiously. “He got dirt and dust on your coat. Take it off, now.”

_Of all the things…_

“I’ll freeze if I take my coat off. I’m not doing it,” Casey says flatly. She doesn’t care how intimidating he is, she’s not catching her death because he doesn’t like her dirty coat.

“God, please just take it off,” his voice cracks, his eyes screwed shut tight.

She’s never heard him sound like that before. “Have you lost your mind? Its ten degrees out. No.”

 With a snarl, he moves fast, like a snake. He rips her seatbelt off and attempts to unzip her coat with a yellow rag. Terrified, Casey cries out, lashing out with her hands and feet. They struggle against each other, but Dennis’s strength wins out.

He throws her coat into the back seat as if it is covered in the Ebola virus. Closing his eyes as if it pains him to see it at all. Casey just glares at him, gritting her teeth, arms crossed over her chest. Her hair is an unholy mess, tangled in her face as she breathes through her mouth harshly.

“It wouldn’t have been so difficult if you had just taken the coat off when I asked,” he rasps, panting.

He’s impossible and Casey just wants to sink her nails into him. Anywhere will do.

They sit there, sizing each other up. His eyes drift downward, looking at her legs in her black stretchy work pants. His gaze freezes, his whole body tensing as he zeroes in on a few specks of slush splatter on the material, down by her boots.

“Don’t you dare,” Casey says, holding her hands up, shrinking into her seat.

His stormy eyes travel back up her body, lingering on her breasts as they strain against her sweater. He licks his lips out of habit, his eyes darting back to hers, agonized and hungry. “I’m trying to be good. You’re not making this easy on me. The pants, they’re filthy-”

Then he twitches, his face softening as he blinks. He takes the glasses off and neatly folds them, placing them in his pocket again. “Oh, little dove. I figured I would step in before he has you sitting in the nude.” Patricia whispers softly, “It’s that OCD of his, truly beastly. You do rile him up though, he has very little self-control and you _are_ a very pretty young lady. He likes that, you see.”

She shrugs her shoulders in a cute fashion, as if not seeing the frazzled state Casey has fallen in to. She starts the ignition of the car and then turns on the radio, switching through the stations until some form of opera comes on.

“Oh, Italian. What a lovely language, don’t you think? I admire it so.”

Casey nods her agreement silently, because one does not simply disagree with Patricia.

They drive in relative silence, aside from the soaring opera piece. Patricia drives like an old woman in the snow and Casey isn’t surprised in the least. As they approach Casey’s apartment block, Patricia gives her a calculating look at the stoplight. “You know you can’t have one without the other, little dove?”

Bringing her attention back to Patricia, Casey asks, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, young lady. Dennis and Kevin. You think you can get by pretending Dennis isn’t there, but you are wrong, my sweet doe. Kevin may be the one that keeps you coming back, but make no mistake, Dennis will be the one who _keeps_ you. There is no denying that.”

Casey has nothing to say in reply, turning the words over in her head numbly. She’s still waiting to pin Kevin down to have a serious talk, but he is as elusive as ever in the face of confrontation. The less she thinks of Dennis, the better. She’s been humiliated by him enough that past two days.

“Oh, no response? Good for you,” Patricia says cattily.

At those words, Casey returns her gaze to the white snow swirling around them, just about ready to throw herself into the snow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Split or the characters. All is owned by M. Night Shyamalan.
> 
> AN: Would you believe that I had planned on this only being 3 chapters total? Somehow, everything I have plotted out just keeps getting longer! Quite a bit is getting pushed back into further chapters...so I'm seeing 5 to 6 chapters total most likely. I debated on upping the rating for this chapter, but I don't believe it is anything too risque', knowing what I have waiting for the next few chapters when the rating will change to Explicit. 
> 
> As for Barry, I think the man plays for both teams. He is tough to write due to the fact that we saw Dennis playing him as way over the top flamboyant & then Casey saw the videos of Barry where he is very toned down. Since he and Kevin are so similar, I think Barry would just tie in with whatever Kevin wants. Barry is too fun to leave untouched though :)
> 
> Once again, all of your comments and kudos are FANTASTIC. THANK YOU ALL so much. It warms me in this -55F degree weather we are having right now...

Patricia makes her dinner when they get inside of Casey’s apartment. The female alter makes herself at home in the kitchen, putting together a sandwich that Casey chokes down without comment. Patricia eats across the table from her studiously, in relative silence.

It makes Casey nervous. The resolute female alter never spends time with her and she never does anything without a reason.

There is always a method to her madness.

Patricia finishes her sandwich first, putting her plate away efficiently. She purses her lips in false sympathy as she looks at Casey. “Look at you. What a mess. I’ll draw you a nice, hot bath.”

She stares Casey down until Casey gives her a wane smile. “Thank you, Patricia. That’s kind of you.”

The female alter shrugs her shoulders and makes a kissing motion with her lips before disappearing into Casey’s bathroom. Patricia comes to collect her a short while later, asking her to let her know if the temperature was too much.

Closing the bathroom door behind her, Casey sighs, stripping off her clothing before stepping into the scalding hot bathtub. The water burns, but she enjoys the feeling, searing away her thoughts. Searing away her sense of self. She feels cold inside, dirty. She hasn’t seen her Uncle in months and he had left her alone for the most part…but now.

Now that’s he’s seen her again it feels like a chain is tightening around her wrist. She knows he won’t be able to resist trying to reel her back in. The idea horrifies her.

She sits in the tub until the water begins to chill, dunking her head under to see what it feels like to drown. When she surfaces, her lungs screaming for air, the bathroom door is open and the doorway is occupied.

Patricia’s eyes are boring holes into Casey, as if she suspects what had been on Casey’s mind. On instinct, Casey wraps her arms around herself, sinking deeper into the tub. “I’m not finished.”

“Don’t be silly, girl. The water is cold now. Come out, now. Don’t be shy.”

The sound of water dripping into the tub is loud in the suddenly quiet bathroom. Seeing her reluctance, Patricia grabs the towel off of the rail on the wall, a sure sign that she has no intention of leaving. A threat, insinuating that she will walk out the door with the towel, which would leave Casey to follow her out of the bathroom to find another.

Patricia loves exerting control, cruelly and efficiently.

Humiliation courses over Casey in a wave, staring up at those resolute eyes that have not an ounce of pity in them. Squaring her jaw, Casey pushes herself up and out of the water, standing there completely bare before Patricia, water dripping down her skin in rivulets.

The female alter steps closer, her eyes traveling down Casey’s body in a curiously detached way. Feeling pinned, Casey goes to wrap her arms around her chest, but Patricia clucks her tongue at the movement. “Oh no, no need for that little dove. Let me have a look at you. I want to see what the fuss is all about.”

Shaking from cold and nerves, Casey asks quietly, “Are the others-”

“It’s just us girls.” Patricia steps closer still, eyes taking in Casey’s breasts, the apex of her thighs skeptically. “I sometimes see what is going on with Kevin and Barry, but those two are so private with their thoughts. They have some control. Dennis though, he’s always been an open book to _me_. I know what perversion goes on in his mind, despite him trying to temper it down.”

Patricia places a finger under Casey’s chin and lifts her face slightly, meeting her eyes icily. “We all have a purpose. We are all here to protect Kevin in some way. But then, there is _you_. I’m not sure what your purpose is, if you have one at all. You are a risk. One I find unnecessary.”

Casey’s face goes slack and she closes her eyes. Once more she finds herself in the grasp of a predator, though a vastly different one from Dennis. She’s always gotten the sense that Patricia wants her gone. _Well, let her have at it_ , Casey thinks.

The pads of Patricia’s fingers brush over Casey’s shoulders and her hips, running over the rough edges of her scars with gentle care. “Hmm. Did you do this to yourself?”

Casey holds her tongue, shaking.

“Suffering written into flesh. Poetic.”

Warmth encompasses Casey suddenly. She opens her eyes, finding herself wrapped in the towel that Patricia had been holding hostage. The woman in Kevin’s body dries Casey’s hair, brushes it, helps her into her nightgown. As if she is a child.

They get into the queen-sized bed together and the negative energy is stifling, electric. Casey can’t sleep, sensing Patricia only a few inches away. They don’t touch, they aren’t romantically involved after all. Patricia is staying simply to be a block, a wall between Casey and Kevin.

Casey can’t get over the fact that she is sleeping beside a woman that hates her. It isn’t how she envisioned her night ending.

“I don’t want to hurt Kevin.” She feels that she needs to say it, needs Patricia to understand that she isn’t some horrid threat waiting to ruin Kevin’s life.

The female alter shifts, the bed sheets rustling. “I know you don’t intend to…but you do. You ask for too much of him. Eventually, it will break him. You will see.”

Silence falls in the room and tears prick at Casey’s eyes. She presses a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a sob. Emptiness has settled inside of her, twisted with the black abyss of sorrow and she knows this is exactly how Patricia wanted this night to end.  


* * *

 

***

The following morning, Casey doesn’t tell Kevin about the Dennis incident.

Patricia’s biting words echo in her head on replay.

***  
  
  
The autoshop calls- her car being fixed is delayed, necessary parts are out of stock.

Casey isn’t sure how much more unfortunate this week can get.

Then, that afternoon after work, Kevin mentions that his doctor wants to meet Casey. “Dr. Fletcher is a very nice woman. She’s been helping us for years. She ah…wants to check in on you. Considering the nature of my disorder.”

Casey flips through her cooking magazine absently. “Do I need to pay her? Because I don’t-”

“No, of course not. She’s like family to me anyway. You don’t even have to talk about you anyway. I know you don’t like talking about your own history. She is more curious about how our relationship is affecting my treatment.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about your treatment, but I could help her write a book on the drama that comes with dealing with all of you on a day to day basis.”

Kevin grins. “I’m sure she would love that. She knows how important you are to me.”

Sighing, Casey asks when they are going.  


***  


Barry holds her hand in his as they step off the train and Casey looks up at him in brief surprise. He grins down at her, winking. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He’s warm, exuberant in a way that Kevin isn’t. Barry is overly flirtatious and flamboyant, putting Casey in a constantly flustered state. She has no clue what to do with him, he’s Kevin but he extra Kevin. He’s Kevin on steroids.

Despite this, he is a joy to be around. When Casey is with him, she doesn’t really need to talk, Barry does enough talk for the both of them. He’s always speculating about something new or judging some woman’s coat with disapproving glances.

When they arrive at Dr. Fletcher’s place, he leads her up the winding stairs, their footsteps echoing off the elegant wood. Casey looks around in awe. “Is this an office or a home?”

Barry nods towards a few floors up. “It’s both. She conducts business out of her home, so it’s also her office. Nice place too.”

He knocks at their destination and an older woman answers the door, smiling warmly at Barry. He hugs her and kisses the air by her cheek. “Dr. Fletcher, meet Casey Cooke. Kevin’s girlfriend.”

Dr. Fletcher has nicely styled white hair and perfect makeup, her clothes elegantly chosen. She is a woman of class and taste, that much is apparent to Casey. She’s never really been around a woman like this, having grown up with men exclusively. She extends her hand to her, slightly intimidated.

The older woman’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of Casey, but she hides her reaction well. “It is such a pleasure to meet you, young lady. Barry and Kevin have told me so much about you,” Dr. Fletcher says, clasping Casey’s hand warmly. “But, Barry. I have to ask. Only Kevin’s girlfriend? Is this a distinct choice? I’m very curious. Not many of my patients date seriously.”

They step inside of her home and Casey once more is in awe. The walls are lined with bookshelves and artwork. So much elegance in one home, but it fits the woman who lives here. Barry looks like he is at a loss for words for a brief moment. He stutters. “I guess we haven’t talked about it, Dr. Fletcher. Like, if it’s a one for all and all for one sort of deal. I’ll ask.”

Dr. Fletcher sits in an ornate armchair, her bracelets jingling. “It would be healthier to consider it that way, Barry. Relationships can get rocky if not everyone is on board.”

Dennis flashes in Casey’s mind and she scowls.

Barry holds his hands up in surrender. “I get it, I get! I’ll pass that along. I don’t think Kevin would be jealous, but I could be wrong.”

“Don’t I have a say in this?” Casey asks.

Sauntering over to where she is seated, Barry shushes her with exaggeration, smiling and tickling her. She grins at him, using her boot to push him away.

“Barry, you know I asked you here for a reason. Do I have permission to speak freely with her? I want to make sure I ask that, doctor and patient laws and all.” Dr. Fletcher asks seriously, her eyebrows raised as she looks at Barry.

Barry nods. “Yeah, yeah, sure thing. You know what is best for us anyway, Dr. Fletcher. Do your magic.”

“Then, Barry dear, as much as you are my favorite, would you mind giving us some privacy? I’d like to speak to Casey alone.”

Barry shrugs his shoulders, looking slightly unwilling to leave. “Sure, doc. I’ll head out for a bit. Casey, baby, just text me when you are ready to go.”

Casey nods her affirmation to him, noting the way his eyes flicker between her and his doctor. The older woman laughs warmly and makes a shoo-ing motion with her hands. “Go, Barry. I’m not going to eat her! I’m not Patricia.”

“Thank all that is holy.” He mutters, rolling his eyes as he steps out the front door, the sound of his boots thudding down the stairs echoes loudly.

Dr. Fletcher and Casey both flinch at the sound of the doors on the lower floor banging shut.

Now sure that Barry is gone and out of ear shot, the doctor pulls out her notepad. “Casey, I’m sure you are utterly confused as to why I wanted to see you. Let me clear some of this up a bit. Kevin has been my patient for nearly two decades and has rarely been able to keep any sort of close relationships. It’s been nearly impossible for him. Kevin and Barry are great at holding down a job together, but people are a different matter entirely. My work is built around those with DID, people who have suffered severe trauma. Many people don’t understand this disorder and people with it often make the general public uncomfortable.”

Casey completely understands that sentiment.

The doctor continues, making a few notes as she speaks. “It is very important to me that I make sure you both are alright in the relationship, given the delicate nature. I have quite a few concerns, about certain things you may or may not be aware of. Kevin is quite fragile, as I am sure you have glimpsed already, but such a wonderful young man. He and Barry talk about you incessantly, so frankly I needed to see if you were real!”

Sitting straight in her seat, Casey folds her hands in her lap to keep from picking at them self-consciously. “That’s me. Casey. The real girl.”

“You are very young, dear.” Dr. Fletcher squints a bit, leaning forward to get a better look at Casey. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you? As I get older, you young ladies keep getting younger!”

“I’m twenty-two.”

The older woman tsks. “Very young indeed. You understand why I’m concerned, don’t you?”

Casey bites her lip, looking away to gaze at the books on the shelves. “I always thought age is just a number.”

The doctor is looking at her with something shaded in her eyes. “Then you know about Dennis, do you? His proclivities towards young ladies like yourself? I’m just concerned that parts of him are bleeding into Kevin, seeing as Kevin is the one you have the core relationship with.”

 _Is she kidding?_ “I mean no offense, Dr. Fletcher, but those two couldn’t be more different.”

Dr. Fletcher crosses her legs and leans forward with renewed interest. “You’ve met Dennis?”

Casey stares at her blankly, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion after a moment. “Yes. Is that…unusual?”

The other woman clasps her hands together tightly over her knees, rings clicking together. “I have never interacted with Dennis. He’s only been described to me by Barry and Kevin. The fact that you have engaged with him brings me great intrigue…and great worry. Between his OCD and violent cravings, his need for control has always been a concern. Of all of Kevin’s alters, Dennis is the one who keeps me up at night, worrying about what Kevin might get himself into. Tell me about him, I wonder what your perspective is.”

Casey’s jaw clenches slightly, though she tries to have no outward reaction. The doctor is watching her like a hawk. “We…ah. We don’t get along.”

Dr. Fletcher frowns. “Are you safe? He hasn’t hurt you, has he? Made you feel threatened? This is one of the reasons I wanted to meet you, once I found out Kevin was dating someone long-term. I’m happy he can find some normalcy, I truly am. I just want to be sure you are safe as well.”

 _Jeez, she makes it sound like I’m dating a serial killer,_ Casey muses darkly. “I’ve only met Dennis a handful of times and honestly, I’ve told Kevin to keep him away from me. He is…abrasive. Overbearing. Suffocating.”

_Possessive._

None of these terms seem to endear Dennis to Dr. Fletcher. “But, do you feel scared? I need you to understand, Kevin will always have his alters. The trauma he suffered as a child was immense, so immense that he split himself into pieces to cope. If you are with him, you are with all of them. I don’t want you to be in a relationship where you have to look over your shoulder in fear that Kevin might switch to one of his undesirable alters.”

Huffing out a breath of air, Casey stares the other woman down. “Are you trying to tell me to leave him? Is that what is going on here?”

Dr. Fletcher leans back in her chair, sighing heavily. “No. But I’m trying to tell you there is always a way out, if you need it. I want Kevin happy. I want what is best for him, but I fear that any turmoil with you could cause him to regress into the dark.”

Patricia’s cold words of warning are an echo, ever present. Casey sees them in Dr. Fletcher’s comments.

The other woman sits forward suddenly, clasping her hands once more out of habit as she speaks to Casey. “Barry is the extroverted leader of the group, full of positivity and energy. Kevin has many of Barry’s wonderful traits, but he is no leader and he has great weaknesses. Dennis, based on the descriptions I’ve been given over time, is the aggressive enforcer. Kevin’s protector, brought to life to shield Kevin from pain. It stands to reason that if Kevin feels strongly about you, Dennis will as well, because you are important to Kevin.”

Casey thinks on how Dennis had disparaged of her wearing a skirt and tights to work, flying off the handle at her. The thought gives way to the memory of his hand on the back of her neck as he guided her away from her Uncle, that strong, claiming grasp emblazoned in her mind. “He’s only ever hurt my feelings before, verbally. He’s never been physical with me.”

She omits the fact that he ripped her coat off against her will in a car ride.

Nodding, Dr. Fletcher makes a note. “If you feel safe and cared for in this relationship, then it gives me a peace of mind. You understand it worried me when Barry mentioned a young lady had been sleeping over at Kevin’s and vice versa.”

The words bring a flush to Casey’s face. “Oh, um, it isn’t what you think. We haven’t-”

Casey stops herself, realizing telling this woman that she has her own issues to work with might not help the situation.

“Oh, to be young! No need to be embarrassed. Whatever the nature of your relationship as it is today, I had to check in. Dennis is described as having an overactive sex drive. Do you understand what I’m saying, Casey? Kevin may have restraint, but a different part of him does not. I need you to be careful. I want you to have my number, just in case something goes wrong.”

Suddenly feeling cold, Casey shifts in her seat.  


* * *

  
When Barry comes to pick her up, he slings an arm around her waist and pulls her close, their hips knocking into one another as they walk back to the train. “I did a thing while you were in deep with Dr. Fletcher.”

She tilts her head up to look at him, his grin infectious. Her conversation with the doctor had made her anxious, a hollow pit building in her stomach. Sometimes, she wondered if she truly knew who she was with. “What did you do?”

“I signed us up for dance class on Thursday nights. After work.”

Casey laughs. “I dance enough with Hedwig at home! I’ve danced enough to last a lifetime.”

“Ohhh, nah baby gurrl. That’s not dancing. That’s…well, it’s something else.”

It sure was. Hedwig got _down_.

He presses her cheek to his chest when they are on the train, standing pressed together, swaying together gently with the movements of the track. “I’m taking you swing dancing. It will be great. We will have a blast. I promise. If we don’t, ya can do something awful to me, I promise.”

“You keep that promise, Sir.”

He sticks his tongue in her ear in response and she shrieks, a laugh bubbling out of her throat as she paws at her own ear. Barry grabs her around the waist with both arms and pulls her to him tightly as she squirms, making disgusted faces at him over her wet ear.

“Get a room, assholes!” A man sitting in one of the seats across from them grouches.

Barry turns and gives the man a once over before rolling his eyes, accent thickening with distate. “Ugh. Ya oughta mind ya own damn business, walking around in shoes from last season. Peasant.”

Casey snickers into his chest, hiding her expression from the disgruntled man. When they get off at their stop and start walking towards Kevin’s place, Barry swings her around, twirling her before dipping her backwards with his arm around her back. He leans low over her and asks her out for a drink.

Laughing, Casey lets gravity tip her head back, looking at the snow as it descends from the black sky. “Couldn’t you have just asked?”

He bares his teeth. “Sounds boring, love. I’d rather do this.”

Standing straight, he hauls her back up, his hand holding hers as he pulls her towards one of the local bars. “I never said yes,” Casey teases, cheeks red.

“Baby girl, ya didn’t need to. I already know the answer, don’t play hard to get now.”

They pass a few of the more sport like bars, Barry settling on a place that Casey squints at suspiciously. “I can’t even pronounce the name of this place. Is it a wine bar? Or an exotic antique shop?”

“Hush,” Barry says, opening the door for her. “It’s real shi-shi, I won’t be caught dead takin’ ya anywhere less.”

They find themselves seated in a dark corner booth, the ambiance of the bar cozy and romantic. Barry slings an arm around her, sitting pressed together as they order their drinks and appetizers. Barry presses about her meeting with Dr. Fletcher, but Casey just shakes her head. “It wasn’t eventful. She just wanted to see how things were going. Simple stuff.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious! Are you worried?”

His eyes are penetrating as he looks down at her. “Should I be?”

Casey pushes the sinking feelings in her stomach away with a large sip from her wine. She doesn’t want to hear Patricia in her head and she doesn’t want to hear Dr. Fletcher on top of that. Feeling emboldened, she presses a kiss to his cheek, telling Barry he’s got nothing to concern himself with.

He turns his face, catching her lips with his and Casey is momentarily stunned. He pulls her closer, so close that she is practically in his lap.

“Barry, people are looking-”

“Who cares, baby doll,” he says against her lips.

His hand is tangled in her hair as he kisses her again, tasting of shiraz. For a moment, Casey has the terrified thought that she’s kissing another man who isn’t Kevin, but the idea is ridiculous. Barry is Kevin…even when he isn’t.

They finish walking home sometime after, warm from the wine in their veins. Barry is so touchy-feely, always has his arm around her waist or shoulder, keeping them laughing and smiling the whole way home as they navigate the ice together.

He presses her against the railing as they climb the apartment stairs, his mouth tasting hers again. Casey reasons with herself that it can’t be wrong, continues telling herself that it’s Kevin’s lips against hers. She places her hands on his neck, caressing the skin on the nape of his neck.

As they stand pressed together in the stairwell, Barry lets out a contented sigh. “I gotta go, baby doll. Kevin’s getting jealous. See ya on the flip side.”

His face shifts slightly, becoming a little more serious, less jovial. Kevin blinks down at her, taking in his surroundings, feeling his body. “My mouth tastes like sulfates. I sense a headache coming on,” he says, brushing hair out of Casey’s face fondly.

“Barry didn’t drink that much, I think you’ll be fine,” Casey laughs, happy to see the familiar twinkle in those blue eyes.

Inside his apartment, he looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “You guys had fun tonight.”

It is a loaded statement and Casey can’t tell what he is feeling.

Placing her coat in the closet, Casey nods simply. “Yeah, we did. He signed us up for swing class too. On Thursday’s.”

Kevin hums. “I saw some of that. Barry and I tag team the light occasionally.”

“Sounds devious.”

He sits on the couch, flicking on the television as Casey moves to perch on his lap like a cat. He leans back and pulls her against his chest. “Very.”  


* * *

  
  
After they get into bed together later that night, Kevin sits up on his elbow to look down at Casey. “So, did Dr. Fletcher scare you away yet?”

It had clearly been on his mind. Or Barry’s. Or both.

Casey stretches out, noting the way his eyes follow the lines of her body. “You should be less worried about Dr. Fletcher scaring me and more worried about our own issues. You’ve been hiding every time I try to talk about what has been going on.”

He runs his hand over her stomach, his fingers hesitating on her scars. “I’ve never been good at arguing. And I hate fighting with you. I just want you to know, I understand the struggles you are facing, dealing with me and all of the others. I know I’m not easy.”

Keeping her mouth shut, Casey lets him speak, not wanting to say the wrong thing and ruin the moment. He was finally talking about something substantial and she is willing to listen. He sighs, continuing as he presses his nose to the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.

“I know you probably wish it wasn’t me here with you. In your bed. In your life. You probably wish I was some other guy, someone stable. But. I think I’ve fallen in love with you…and it scares me.” His eyes are open windows to his soul, broken as it is. Casey can see the truth there, see that he truly deeply believes she is another half of him.

This time, she is speechless. His words warm her and terrify her all at once. “I…I don’t know what to say, Kevin.”

His hand plays with the material of her nightshirt and he whispers huskily in her ear, “Then don’t say anything at all.”

She feels the way his hand moves slowly, making a trail of heat as it moves lower and lower on her body. She tenses in anticipation, ready to explode with energy as his hand drifts closer. The air in her lungs evaporates in a rush as his fingers brush against her, over her underwear. He toys with her slit, rubbing gently, causing liquid heat to fill her nether regions in a rush. Face red, she looks up at him, a deer caught in headlights.

“Let me give this to you,” he says, the heat of his breath bathing her ear as he presses against her side, his hand cupping her between her legs. “Please, let me give you this.”

It feels different, hearing him speak to her in this tone, begging her. The way he said he was in love with her. The typical paralyzing fear she is so used to when being intimate is nowhere to be seen this time. She feels a strange calm, knowing he’s looked at her scars and deemed her to be just as worthy of love as anyone else.

She never thought she deserved love. Casey feels overwhelmed, sucking in air as if she can’t get enough.

His hips move in a familiar rhythm against her thigh as his fingers finally drift under the line of her underwear, brushing her heated flesh. It’s like being struck by lightning and Casey gasps out in surprise. Kevin pauses, asking her if she’s okay and she nods, holding his hand against her in case he doubted her nonverbal cue.

Casey feels like she is on fire, her whole mind focused on the point where his fingers connect with the most intimate part of her body. She never thought something like this could feel so good, so natural. His warm fingers are gentle, coaxing, asking, never demanding anything from her. Only giving.

Sighs and moans tear from her lips and his groans are reactionary, enjoying the sound of her enjoying him.

When his fingers enter her, she is more than ready, her own fluids soaking her. “Oh, God…” he gasps, feeling her, “This is because of me?”

He swells against her, his body reacting. She’s too far gone to nod, too embarrassed to answer him.

Casey faintly wonders if she should push him away, asks herself if this intimacy is too much for her, but the logical part of her tells her this is natural and good. This is a man who truly loves her and isn’t going to hurt her. He isn’t her Uncle. He’s nothing like him.

Her body is racing towards a finish line, her muscles tensing as she strains against his hand. She feels hot, like she’s burning up from the inside out. She clutches at his wrist, but for once with no intention of pushing him away. Her face is hot, she can tell, feeling the way his eyes are watching her every reaction and how he groans at the noises she makes.

The only light in the room is the moon, peaking through the curtains, casting over their bodies entwined together. The only sound is the rustling of the sheets and the sound of their desperate breathing.

His fingers are gentle, stroking her slowly with patience that she no longer has. His thumb rubs the same pattern against her bundle of sensitive nerves, the rhythm building and building. “Kev…Kevin,” she gasps, her voice cracking.

“Shhh…it’s okay. Let go. I’ve got you,” he says huskily, watching her intently.

The two fingers inside of her make a come-hither movement while his thumb works her without stop, not even a stutter in the pattern. When she falls over the edge of whatever she’s been building to, Casey cries out, feeling her core clench around his digits helplessly. Kevin’s lips caress her neck, whispering sweet nothings there as he slowly pulls his hand away. His hand is wet and Casey closes her eyes, not wanting to see evidence of what she has just done.

His warm hand holds hers, running it down his chest until their clasped hands meet the hard ache in his boxers. Flushing, Casey explores the shape of him, listening to him breathing harshly in her ear. He presses into her hand, the cloth of his boxers wet from his excitement. Entwining their hands, he shows her how he likes to be touched, until he is coming apart in her grasp, moaning her name.

Her heart soars, feeling like she’s in a dream state. For a moment there is only the sound of their breathing.

Casey lays there, breathless, feeling boneless. She faintly realizes that nothing awful happened to her, no lightening has struck her down for enjoying the man in her life. She’s made a step forward, she didn’t panic as she feared she would have. Progress.

His lips brush her ear as he whispers huskily, “Feeling better?”

Casey flushes, but meets his eyes in the moonlight. “Stop fishing for compliments!”

His smile widens, a certain male pride present. Insists, needing to hear it. “It was good, right?”

“Blow me,” she mutters fondly, embarrassed.

He laughs and the sound warms her stomach all over again.  


* * *

  
  
An undetermined amount of time later, Casey wakes up to the sound of Kevin’s shower going. Her body is exhausted and it is still dark. Her bleary eyes gaze at the clock and she groans to see that it is 3:40AM. Usually, she never wakes when he slips out of bed to get ready for his early shift.

She reaches over to the bedside table to grab her phone, going still when she sees a missed call and a number of texts from a number she can never forget.

_Casey, when will you come back to visit me?_

_Are you ignoring me, Casey-bear? Don’t you love me anymore?_

A wave of nausea rushes over her and she gags. Realistically, she knew this would happen, it would only be a matter of time before Uncle John came after her again. The auto shop had only been the beginning and Casey curses her bad luck.

She swallows her bile down, feeling it burn her esophagus, not even hearing the shower turn off.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”

Dennis stands in the doorway to the bathroom, shirtless, his broad shoulders tapering down to his narrow waist. The light behind him hides his expression, but she knows it’s him. His brassy, low voice and accent are unmistakable, even thick with sleep. Casey clutches the sheets to her chest, thankful she isn’t naked. He’s powerfully built, holds himself stronger than Kevin or Barry and the veins on his arms are obvious, traveling down to his strong hands.

She flushes, remembering what those hands did with her only hours before.

Casey shakes her head, not trusting herself to speak. She knows he’s looking at her, his gaze a physical touch, electric.

“You’d tell me if someone was botherin’ you, right? You should be sleepin’, it’s early.”

She nods, still silent, laying back down in the bed, resting her head on the pillow. She places her back to him. The sound of his voice does not evoke feelings of sleep in her and she hates it.

With laser focus, she hears him getting ready to leave for work, his precise movements. She can visualize him pulling his dress shirt on, buttoning it up button by button. Tucking his shirt into his pants, the ones that fit Kevin’s body far too well. Hiking those pants up as he sits down to pull on his pristine shoes.

Casey hears him pause beside the bed, looking down at her. She squeezes her eyes shut, holds her breath. The vulnerability she feels is palpable.

He makes a noise in his throat, almost unnoticeable. Casey’s heart pounds in her skull, like a drum.

Then the front door shuts.

As she lies there sleepless, Casey comes to the conclusion that although she went to sleep beside Kevin, it was Dennis who woke up next to her. It scares her, wondering how many mornings this has happened with her blissfully ignorant under his starved gaze.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or Split. All belong to M. Night Shyamalan.
> 
> AN: Okay, so this chapter turned out far more self-indulgent that I had anticipated. Sorry about that. For real.  
> My husband keeps giving me these knowing looks, because he's all 'woman, are you writing filthy fanfic again?' Yes. I am. 
> 
>  
> 
> Note the updated tags. There is alcohol abuse (but who hasn't abused wine before) and dubious-consent. You are warned.

It’s Friday and the temperature has finally risen to nearly forty degrees, a heat wave compared to the prior days. The women at the office have all been in a buzz about the crime warnings on the radio and tv, saying a slew of robberies and assaults have cropped up in wake of the suddenly bearable weather.

Casey has still been stuck taking cabs back and forth, but for now it has almost become a routine for her. These crimes always pop up once the weather gets bearable, criminals sneaking out to take advantage of better than frozen temperatures. When she lived with her Uncle she had other things to worry about, but now she lives alone in her own place. Kevin is working late tonight and she figures she most likely won’t be seeing him until Saturday.

At precisely 4PM, Casey’s boss (or rather the man she takes care of day in and day out), Nicholas, sits on her desk. She blinks up at him and smiles demurely, “What’s up, Mr. O’Hara? Any plans for the weekend?”

He adjusts his tie and laughs. “Work, and more work. I’m trying to figure out why you aren’t downstairs at the happy hour with everyone else. You should go, you work too hard, you’re always hiding at this desk.”

She checks his calendar and sure enough, he has snuck in a two-hour funded happy hour for the floor. “Someone has to take care of you.  just so happens to be me.”

“As someone who appreciates the hard work you put in for my difficult ass, I’m telling you to go get something to drink,” he says, his dark brown eyes laughing. “It’s on the company dime, no person in their right mind says no to that.”

Casey squints up at him. “Are you sure you aren’t distracting me from adding more meetings to your calendar?”

“Positive. Get your stuff, walk down with me. It’s Friday, woman, we just got paid.”

They head down the elevator together, down to the bar on the first floor of their building. Their shoes click on the lovely marble floors and Casey does feel rather posh next to the regional VP of Sales, his perfect cut suit and coiffed black hair, sprinkled with salt and pepper.

People always stop and stare when he walks by, he has that aura about him. Casey is fine with that as long as they aren’t looking at her.

A few hollers and cheers go up as they enter the bar area, a hoard of the team already into their drinks and appetizers. “Where has she been hiding?” The woman from accounts says with a smile. “You work that poor girl too hard. Come sit with us sweetie.”

“Debra, what are you talking about, she’s the mastermind that tells me what planes I’m boarding every week. She could be sending me to Timbuktu and I’d have no clue,” Nicholas states. “Hell, I’d forget Valentine’s Day if Casey didn’t book my plans for me.”

“God, your wife hates you, Nick,” one of the men says, chuckling into his gin and tonic.

Nervous, never being one for attention, Casey slides onto one of the bar stools that Nicholas holds out for her. She thanks him before eyeing the gathered group with apprehension. In school, she had always been a loner, an outcast, but here it isn’t quite as obvious. Most of the adults she works with think she is shy, but a nice girl.

“What are you drinking?” Nicholas asks as he waves down the server with authority.

“I…uh…hm. Something red, I suppose?”

He orders her wine, which she drinks quickly, hoping to ease her nerves. She isn’t used to being in such a loud, boisterous crowd of people. Especially when none of them are looking at her like she is the ‘weird girl’. They accept her into their jovial group, people milling around between tables to chat with each other.

“So,” Debra from accounts says, leaning over to speak to Casey over the noise, “Tell me. Have you gotten a boyfriend recently? You’ve been glowing around the office with a certain something special.”

Choking on her wine, Casey wipes her lips on the back of her hand. “Oh, well. Yeah. I do actually. We’ve been together for about ten months.”

“Isn’t that special! Almost a year. Is it serious?” The girl from business operations, Farrah, joins in with the gossip, scooting closer to Casey.

A blush comes to her face as Casey thinks of the night before, Kevin’s hands stroking her with surety, his voice telling her he loves her. The women all gasp and giggle, seeing her face turn red. “Ooooh, she’s got it bad! Girl, you better keep him close tonight! Those house break-ins have been getting a little scary around here.”

It doesn’t seem like much time has passed, but Casey’s glass of wine is empty and is swiftly refilled. She thinks nothing of it, even when it happens for the third time. She feels warm all over and suddenly she doesn’t feel so out of place with all of these people.

In fact, she’s having a perfectly wonderful time and the haze that hovers around her vision is soothing.

“I don’t live on the first floor though. Doesn’t that make it a bit safer?” She asks, tasting the acidic taste of her wine on her tongue.

Debra nods. “Of course, but still. They had a scary story from on 5th street. Some thug was knocking on doors and busting in when the door was opened. Terrifying!”

“Shut up, Debra. You’re giving me nightmares,” Farrah says, her words slurring slightly.

“Well, don’t open the door, Farrah. Christ.” Will, one of the senior account sales managers.

Farrah flicks him off. “I’m calling HR,” he rasps at her mockingly, whipping out his work cell and pretends to make a call. “Excuse me, HR, yeah, Farrah, the bossy one in biz ops, she assaulted me with her finger. So traumatized, send help.”

Even Casey can’t stop the laughter that belts out of her. She isn’t much of a drinker and she has certainly drank more than her fair share already.

Quite a few people are slurring and Casey figures she must be too. It’s not a development she is used to and before she knows it, the time ticks 9PM.

“Don’t you assholes have homes to go to? Out! I’m closing the tab, my card is not funding your debauchery any further,” Nicholas says loudly, his voice carrying across the multiple groups in the bar.

“Says the one who never goes home,” Farrah mutters conspiratorially.

Eventually the group starts saying their goodbyes, shuffling to the front doors. A cab line has started and people hop in one by one. Nicholas makes sure that Casey gets in a cab before he leaves. “You’re not driving are you,” she asks him suspiciously.

“Stop that. No more worrying about me, you are off the clock. Get home safe, go straight in and lock your door. You can worry about me on Monday, when you ship me off somewhere else. Where am I going again?”

“Texas,” she says, rolling her eyes at him with exasperation. “How many times do I need to tell you?”

He opens the cab door for her and she gets in. “Have a good weekend!” He waves her off, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

Casey scoffs drunkenly. That fool was going to crash his fancy ass car. She should have scheduled him a cab of his own.

 Everything is warm and hazy as the cab pulls away, taking her to her apartment block. She glances down at her phone and cringes when she sees the text there.

 _Casey-bear. I’m worried about you. You should know better than to ignore me like this,_ Uncle John texts.

Fueled by the wine flooding her veins, Casey figures she is tired of his crap and wants him to know it.

 _How’s this for ignoring you: fuck you_ , Casey texts back furiously, emboldened by the wine.

There is no response and Casey grins widely, a big buzzed smile because she’s finally shut that bastard up. She’s not going to worry about any consequences.

When she gets home, she flings her coat onto the floor, stumbling as she takes her heels off. She laughs breathily, she doesn’t want to be cooped up alone, she wants to continue having _fun_. She likes how she feels right now, like nothing can touch her. She’s on top of the world.

It’s like all the stress in the world has simply dropped away. Every sip of wine had eased her nerves and soothed her mental aches. It had been addictive, the numbing sensation that came from drinking far more than she should.

She texts Kevin, asking him how work is going. As an afterthought, she sends a text saying she wishes he were here with her now. That she’s nervous about what she heard on the news. She doesn’t get a response back, but she doesn’t really expect one right away, knowing he had a longer shift today. It was a split shift, one in the morning, then a large five hour break in the middle of the day. Then the closing night shift; it was brutal but luckily these split shifts rarely happened.

In her buzzed state, Casey misses the sensation of drinking wine, ridiculously she is a glutton for more. She kneels down by her alcohol cupboard and digs around, looking for some form of wine to drink. If she is going to be alone tonight, she may as well have a party for herself.  

Throwing herself a party is certainly better than wallowing in misery, like she generally does when alone, thinking of all the missing pieces of her.

Finding what she is looking for, she pops the cork out and forsakes having a glass, instead drinking straight from the bottle itself. Inspiration strikes her as her addled mind falls on the stereo in the corner of her main living room. She feels so free that she could dance. Lifting her heavy hair up into a ponytail, she turns her jams on and dizzily dances around, swinging around with the bottle of red in hand.

She changes into her sleep clothes, loose shorts and a flowy sweater top, bouncing around to the jams. Casey sings along to the next song that comes on, voice slurred and off key without a care as she goes back into the main room to continue her private party.

Without warning, the door unlocks loudly and opens. Casey whirls on her feet, throat tight, every horrible radio warning dancing in her head. _This is it, I die getting robbed,_ she thinks through her haze.

Instead, Kevin stands in the doorway, staring at her apprehensively, as if noting her defensive stance. “Did I scare you?”

Clasping a hand to her chest, Casey laughs, adrenaline fading away. “Yes! I’ve been texting you, but never heard back. I thought you worked late tonight. What are you doing here?”

He steps in and carefully takes off his shoes by the door mat. “I finished at ten. Figured I would stop by after hearing about the string of robberies in the area, make sure you are safe.”

With wobbly legs, Casey goes to turn down her stereo. “You could have told me you were on your way here. I thought you were here to kill me. Saw my life flash before my eyes. Jerk.”

Shutting and locking the door behind him, he holds up a bag of take out in an offering of peace. He notes the open wine bottle in her hand with a look. “I brought dinner though, if you haven’t eaten. From that place around the corner. I think you like that-”

Hunger hasn’t been on her mind; the wine has been a good substitute all night. The happy hour at work had some appetizers, but somehow the alcohol has been a more attractive poison to Casey. Through her wine buzz, she considers that perhaps she could use some food, at least to avoid the dreadful hangover she suspects she will have in the morning.

She hasn’t drank like this in a long time, but she feels weightless. Every concern she has ever had has melted away and she considers that maybe she should start stocking up on red wine for every Friday night. Barry would certainly love that. Her body is relaxed and even her vision is slightly blurred, but that’s alright. Her protection is here for the night anyhow.

Joining him at the counter, she tears into the brown bag and her mouth waters at the sight of juicy burgers. “Oh, my God,” she groans with exaggeration, “I’d forgotten how to be hungry. Too much booze.”

He’s looking at her, taking in her devil-may-care state. “Hm. I can see that. This is new. Celebrating something?”

Sitting down at the table, Casey tears into the burger with renewed vigor. Talking around her food, she says, “I went to a happy hour at work tonight. I actually had _fun_. Can you believe it? I picked my miserable ass up and went and did something.” Swallowing her food, she sing-songs, “Progress! I think it’s thanks to last night. What we did. I feel…like I can conquer the world.”

Kevin sits down across from her, a faint smile on his face. Casey blushes, thinking of the way he looks when he reaches his climax.

They eat and chat, Casey holding up the majority of the conversation. The wine has her babbling and now that Kevin is here, her night is all but complete. After finishing his burger, Kevin goes to her stash of liquor and pulls out some whiskey, eyeing it critically before pouring himself a large glass.

No ice cube, Casey notes with glee. The man means business.

Kevin stands there against the counter, looking at her bare legs over his whiskey glass as he takes a sip. “So, what have you been up to in here by yourself, hiding from vagrants?”

Casey walks past the couch with the bottle of cabernet in hand and heads towards the stereo in the corner. Kevin follows her slowly, taking up residence on her couch in a smooth motion.

Letting her hair down out of the ponytail, Casey shakes her hair loose. She slurs a bit when she says, “I’ve been practicing my dance moves. Alcohol has done wonders for me. Hedwig has been _crushing_ me in our dance-offs. I’m trying to get better. Never really danced much before meeting him.”

Kevin takes a slow sip from the whiskey in his hand. He sinks further into the cushions, legs falling open, spread wide. The whiskey glass dangles in his hand as he croaks, “Why don’t you show me?”

Turning the stereo back on, Casey points at him drunkenly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Taking a large gulp from the bottle of cabernet, Casey rotates her hips slowly to the beat of the song, closing her eyes. Her whole body is cozy and flexible with the liquid courage (or liquid stupidity, depending on how she looks at it) running through her veins. She’s not even embarrassed about having an audience as she tosses her hair side to side.

She works her way through a few songs, running her hands up her sides, rocking her hips back and forth, her thighs switching between being pressed together and opening and closing with the beat. She turns, shakes her ass for him, laughing as he shifts in his seat. His breath is coming out shaky.

She’s never felt more desirable. Casey dancing her way closer to him, writhing between his spread legs as he looks up at her like a man drowning, dying for air.

Then, without warning, she is flying and the room is a blur as she finds herself positioned on her hands and knees on the couch, a heated body behind hers, covering her. Kevin’s arm is a bar of iron around her stomach, grasping one of her breasts. His other hand grabs one of hers, moving it into her shorts past her underwear, pressing her fingers against her core. His evident desire is pressed against her backside as he grinds it against her, pressing her front into their joint hands with a lusty sound deep in his throat.

The sting of wild arousal is so sudden and Casey feels her core ache wetly, so fast that her head spins, unable to wrap around this very sudden turn of events.

They strain against each other like this for a moment, Casey letting him guide her fingers against her own bundle of nerves, controlling her pleasure while he groans into the nape of her neck loudly, his erection burning against her backside as he roughly thrusts against her. Her face is already flushed from the wine, but now arousal is making her feel even warmer, on fire with want. He moves her fingers into her sheath, along with two of his, the stretch more than she is ready for. He moves their fingers in time to the snap of his hips against her behind and she can almost imagine it’s him inside of her.

An image of them naked in this position, locked together intimately flashes in her mind and she lets out a shaky gasp.

Casey’s buzz is enough to keep her relaxed and unworried until he thrusts hard enough to send her face hard into the arm of the couch. “Jeez, Kevin,” she gasps anxiously, “What has gotten into you?”

She’s moved in a blur once more, as if she is light as a feather. Kevin flips her around so that she is on her back, fluidly lifting one of her legs up around his waist as he thrusts his hips back up against her screaming core. She’s swollen there, ready and utterly sensitive. Casey can’t stop the cry of want that slips past her lips. He’s so hard, she can feel everything through his work pants, she can almost imagine that there are no clothes between them. A moan tears from her throat as he works his hips in slow circles, pressed against her tightly. She can see him watching her reactions, drinking them in. It feels so good she wants to die, she wants him to take those damn pants of his off, press his heated flesh against hers in the same way. With a groan, his face is buried in her neck, teeth buried in her throat. He sucks hard against her sensitive skin, his tongue laving the area.

Despite the liquid fire that the dominant action brings to her stomach, there is a touch of panic sitting in her peripheral. “Wait,” she gasps nervously, feeling out of control.

Because it is. It’s all spiraling out of control. She’s falling and she needs this to slow down.

He doesn’t pause or flinch, even as her hands grip his shoulders in a pushing motion.

He doesn’t even budge an inch.

It is a vague realization that she has never been in control of this situation and finally concern begins to seep through her buzzed head.

He moves his hips back only slightly to tear off her sleep shorts in one violent motion, leaving her in only her lace panties. He stares down at her, at her most intimate place hungrily, licking his lips and panting hard.

She blinks up at him, breathing hard. She wants to tell him to slow down, tell him she’s not sure she is ready to go all the way, she didn’t picture it this way, but his body is making hers wild. He’s never been like this before, made her feel this way before.

Kevin’s _never_ been like _this_ before.

Upon that thought, she sees yellow and frowns. Hanging haphazardly out of his pants pocket as he hovers above her.

_Yellow yellow yellow yellow rag yellow rag dennis dennis has a yellow rag…_

An electric current zings up her spinal column as her faded mind circles around the conclusion. She tries to speak, but it only comes out in a throaty croak, humiliatingly thick with lust. “ _Dennis_.” She tries again, blinking the alcohol from her gaze furiously. Outrage. “ ** _Dennis_**!”

It’s like ice cold water has been thrown over her body.

Sobering slightly now, her gaze clears on his face, sees those stormy eyes staring down at her, glasses absent. His pupils are so dilated that his normally blue eyes are practically black. Before her very eyes, his brow furrows down at her and she _knows_.

Blurred memories pop up into her mind, the way he walked in, dashing something into his pocket after handling the door. Placing his shoes nice and neat on the mat, considering Kevin generally tossed them off his feet as he walked in. The whiskey, because Kevin is a beer guy. Fixing her goddamn table plant. Legs spread wide, watching her dance from under lowered lids. Filth written in those hungry eyes.

“You’ve been here the whole time,” Casey hisses, not even knowing what to feel, but betrayal is at the top of her list.

He exhales through his nose hard at her words, his face hardening into the visage she associates him with. His game is up. His voice easily slides away from Kevin’s even tone and into something deeper. “You said yourself you were worried about what’s on the news. I’m here to keep you safe.”

“Then Kevin should be here! I can’t…I can’t believe you had me so convinced. Kevin is perfectly capable of protecting me.”

“Not like I can,” he drawls, hips stuttering into hers, as if he can’t help it.

He probably can’t. Casey stifles a groan in her throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing his body feels good against hers.

She can’t believe how thoroughly she’s been duped. Horrible thoughts spin through her head as she looks at him, wondering if this has ever happened before, because he’s good at mimicking Kevin. He almost got away with it completely. Until he slipped up and lost control.

 _I can’t believe he tricked me_ , Casey thinks with horror. _How could I not have seen?_

Objectively, she knows that she was drunk when he arrived, she’s been drinking for hours. Even so, she doesn’t even think she would have noticed if she were _sober_. He had even masked his voice, to sound casual like Kevin.

Pushing at him, Casey says, “Get off of me. Now.”

He’s like an immovable object. He grabs one of her hands and presses it forcefully against the bulge in his pants. She can feel it pulsing, his heartbeat fast and furious. “Feel that? You did this to me,” he growls, looking agonized, struggling against himself. “Your body wants this,” he drawls slowly, moving a hand to cup her soaked nether region.

Oh, how she wants to grind up against his hand, let him finish what he started. She glares up at him, “My brain says no.”

It’s a lie, but Casey doesn’t need to tell anyone.

“Get off of me. Or do you intend to rape me here on my couch?” She says it as harshly as she can, trying to make things as bad as possible.

Casey wants to hide from her own arousal, ashamed that _he’s_ made her feel this way. What would Kevin think of her, if he could see her now?

Dennis’s face hardens even further, eyes glittering with a surprisingly amount of self-loathing, like he really is thinking of pinning her down and taking what he wants from her. They stay frozen for a few aching moments and Casey begins to fear that if he doesn’t get away from her body now, she will make him take her despite her own scathing words.

Growling furiously in that brassy pitch, he throws himself away from her, storming towards her bedroom. Cold air meets Casey’s body in his absence. She stares after him. “What do you think you are doing now?”

She needs him to _leave_.

“Using your shower,” he yells irately from the other room.

“I hate you,” she whispers to no one, not sure if she hates him or herself.

She sits there breathing hard, listening as the shower spray starts. Imagines him naked, using her soap on his heated skin. Casey pushes the thoughts away the best she can, but then she hears him, that low moan of his and she covers her ears, mortified.

He is stroking himself in her shower. Thinking of her. Nothing, literally _nothing_ could be worse than the way the sound of him sends a rush of fluids to seep from her core. She’s literally aching despite her anger; perhaps it’s fueling her hunger. There is no other logical reason that she finds herself placing a hand over her aching fleshing, wishing it would just calm down.

 _I could finish myself off. He wouldn’t know,_ she thinks with a disgusting amount of thirst. From the sounds of it, he’s distracted well enough, that horny asshole.

 _But you would know, you would know that you came because of him,_ the logical part of her mind says and that ends that conversation.

She pulls her hand away from herself, breathing in deep as she goes in search of her loose sleep pants, something that shows less skin that her flowy shorts. She would turn the stereo up louder, to drown out his masculine sounds of pleasure, but she knows the neighbors would call in a complaint at this hour.

Therefore, she has to pretend she can’t hear him. Which proves to be ridiculously hard to do.

She grabs a pillow off of the couch and screams into it.

***

Sometime later, Dennis comes out of her bathroom, only wearing the loose workouts sweats that Kevin keeps at her place. Casey isn’t prepared for the wave of longing at hits her at the sight of him, his naked chest a thing of beauty.

She feels like a whore, hates how Dennis made her what he thought she was without much effort.

“It’s pretty cold outside. Not sure that getup will get Kevin home alive,” Casey says flatly.

He stares at her, thinking through his words with that measured precision of his. He damn well knows that she wants him out. Knows she’s been listening to him in the shower. “I’m not leaving you,” Dennis states firmly.

“Well, then you are sleeping on the couch, because I’m not sleeping with you. You have no _fucking_ boundaries, that much is _fucking_ clear,” Casey snarls, because as much as she doesn’t trust him, she doesn’t trust herself anymore. She isn’t one for cursing, but he brings out the worst in her.

Her head is starting to ache, knives behind her eyes.

He runs a hand over his scalp anxiously. “Fine,” he grates out.

Dennis walks past her, making sure to avoid touching her. His control is a thin slip of nothing, his gaze consuming her. She can almost see exactly what he wants to do to her playing out in the blue of his eyes.

Casey stares up at him before shutting her bedroom door in his face. She locks it for good measure. Then, she lets the alcohol do its work, enhancing her exhaustion so that she passes out on her bed. The ceiling spins and she knows that it can’t be a good omen for the morning. She’s doomed.

***

True to form, when the bright winter light seeps through her windows in the morning, her head is in agony. Her stomach roils, tossing and turning and she lays there for a moment, considering death. She’s not sure she has the energy to get up out of bed. An anxious whine slips from her; this is exactly why she was never much of a drinker.

She crawls to the bathroom and vomits in the toilet vigorously. Vomits until her stomach is truly empty, leaving her weak and shaking on the tiles. She blows her nose, stuffed from crying between throwing up her insides.

 _Bread. I need to eat bread and water,_ she thinks distantly, shaking weakly.

Standing on unstable legs, she walks to the door of her bedroom and steps out, too exhausted to even say a thing to Dennis, who is sipping coffee and reading on her couch. His glasses are back in their rightful place. Like a desperate wretch, she claws through her fridge and pantry, trying to see something to eat that won’t have her in the bathroom again.

“Go back to bed,” he says, the low voice of his curling around her like smoke.

“I…I can’t. I need-”

“I know what you need. Get in your bed. Now.”

Clutching her head in agony, Casey stumbles back into her room and throws herself on her bed. It feels like a hammer is being slammed into her skull.  After a few moments of suffering, Dennis comes in with a few water bottles and a plate with plain waffles. He sets them down beside her, then places a bottle of pills on her bedside table. He speaks slowly, as if testing every word. “You, uh…need to take a few bites of the waffle. So, you can take the Advil. You will only hurt your stomach more if you take it without food.”

Casey takes a waffle and nibbles at the edge reluctantly, crumbs falling at will to the bed sheets. Dennis cringes and looks away as if pained. He frowns down at her, opening his mouth to tell her something horrible about stripping the sheets most likely. Ridiculously, all Casey can focus on is the way his brow is so furrowed, the lines there obvious. Already emotional and wishing Kevin were with her, Casey cries a little around the waffle. “Stop looking like that, you’re going to give Kevin wrinkles, scowling all the time.”

He looks up at the ceiling and rolls his eyes darkly, muttering something under his breath. Hating him and herself, Casey abandons the waffle and sobs, her head giving her splitting agony. How did she find herself here, hungover and trapped with Dennis? Casey is torn between feeling betrayed and feeling like she is the betrayer of Kevin himself. She is utterly conflicted and nothing is right.

“Look. You don’t need to cry. I’m not gonna touch you,” he says lowly, looking uncomfortable in the face of her emotional display. “I’m tryin’ real hard for you. To help.”

 Then, he stiffens, wincing as if in pain. His body sags curiously before coming to life beside Casey. “Ohh, loooord was that a fight. That neanderthal did not want ta give up the light, I tell ya.” Barry turns and looks at Casey, seeing her tear stained face and red eyes.

His eyes go wide, blue and worried. “Baby gurl, what is happening in here? I’ll get Kevin. I’ve been trying to get the light back for a few hours. _Shit_. Dennis, you savage.”

Barry mutters the last bit before he softens into a familiar expression. Kind, calm, and gentle Kevin. His sky blue eyes look down at Casey, looking agonized. He quickly lays down beside her and pulls her into his arms. “I’ve lost so much time. What is going on?” Kevin winces slightly, rubbing his forehead as if he has a migraine as well. “Barry is arguing with Patricia and Dennis about something. Why are you crying?”

Casey looks at him, staring at every detail of his face and his eyes. Trying to be sure this time. “Are you really Kevin?” She asks weakly.

She needs to know, feels like last night has turned her whole world upside down. She still is having trouble looking at him and not seeing Dennis. She has to fight the feelings of vulnerability down, the ones she feels when Dennis looks at her.

There is a special look in these blue eyes though, the gentler lines of his face. With a loving caress, he pushes the hair off of her forehead. He smiles that calm smile that usually soothes all her fears. “Who else would I be? Why would you even have to ask? Casey, what did you do to yourself last night? Are you hungover? You never drink like this. You look like death.”

He stiffens then, looking at something on her neck as he moves her hair.

“What is it?” Casey asks, feeling dread fill her, looking at him looking at her.

Kevin brushes something sore, looking at it with an odd look on his face. “You…ah…have a hickey. Last night…were you out…with someone else?”

Casey doesn’t even know what to say. She feels like a disgusting person, unworthy of this sweet innocent man. She is torn between crying and screaming. “I was with you, last night.”

“Not that I recall,” he says with a frown. “It’s all a blank.”

She may as well rip off the band-aid. If he hates her, so be it. “Go ask Dennis. He might,” Casey mutters brokenly.

Kevin freezes. Looks at her body as if something is out of place. The raw look on his face twists a knife in Casey’s chest. He hesitantly asks, “Did…did you?”

Shame stifles the air in her lungs. “No. Oh, please no, don’t think that. I stopped him. He slept on the couch. I locked the door.”

Casey can’t stand how he looks strangely lost, like this isn’t something he expected happening. The look on his face makes her feel like she’s cheated on him. “How did this happen? How did you not know?”

Feeling sick to her stomach, Casey closes her eyes. “I was drunk. He pretended to be you, from the moment he walked in the door. I’m sorry.”

As if clarity comes to him, Kevin sighs. “The news. I was worried sick about you while I was finishing my shift. Dennis must have picked up on that. He knew you wouldn’t let him in, if he came as himself. Casey, you don’t even know how awful I feel about this.”

Another sob rips out of Casey from deep within. She can see that he is beating himself up over this already, trying to curb his own feelings about the situation to protect her. She blurts out, “I should have known. This is all my fault!”

He lies on his back, pulling her body on top of his, his arms wrapped around her. Casey tries to stifle a shudder, the image of Dennis's hands gripping her a vivid memory. “No. No, don’t even say that. Don’t blame yourself for my faults. You didn’t do this to yourself. It was…it was me. And him.”

How can he sit there and try to shoulder the blame and shame for her? When she is the dirty one who brought this on herself? How can he even look at her? “Do you hate me,” she whispers.

Kevin’s lips press against her cheek, seeking her mouth. He doesn’t even seem bothered by the fact that she probably still tastes of vomit. “I could never hate you, Casey. You’re my life.”

God, he makes her melt inside.

His eyes are drawn to the bruise on her neck, a strange look in his eyes. “I know it was my body that did this, but seeing this mark on your skin…”

“What? What’s wrong?”

His whole body seems to sigh. “I’m horribly jealous. I know, it’s stupid. What sort of idiot is jealous of himself? Ugh. Thinking about you with him. Dennis and I do not share the light at all, not like Barry and I. When Barry is with you, I can tag a long, be with you both in a sense even if I’m not in control. With Dennis, it’s all black. I can only sit here and imagine what he did with you and it drives me crazy.”

“Kevin, you know I don’t feel the same way about him as I do for you, right? You don’t have anything to be jealous of.” Even as she says this, she doubts herself. She may not like Dennis personally, but she wants his body.

Kevin sniffs and looks away from her. Shakes his head. “I’m going to have to talk to Dr. Fletcher. This isn’t right, it isn’t healthy.”

Casey’s stomach twists uncomfortably, and not because of nausea. Dr. Fletcher would want them to end it. She would look at Casey and think, ‘I told you so’. “Please don’t. She’s going to want us to stay away from each other.”

Rolling them both over, Kevin sighs and pulls the warm comforter over them both. “Well, that isn’t going to happen, so she is just going to have to think up another way for us to work through this. We **_are_** going to work through this.”

His sure voice calms her, like the sea after a storm. She gazes at him and thinks that he is stronger than everyone thinks, stronger than they give him credit for. “Kevin. You know I love you, right?”

Kevin’s lips form a sad smile and he kisses her nose, whispering, “I didn’t, until now.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or Split, all belong to M. Night Shyamalan.
> 
> Notes: Sorry about the late update, had to get out to the barn and deal with my horse after he had been stuck in his stall for a week due to the -55 degree weather drama we had here. He was a nut. It took many hours all weekend to try and straighten that out. Bah. 
> 
> Updates may be a little slower this week just due to work being nuts as well, lots of travel coming this week, unfortunately. I will DO MY BEST PEOPLE!!!
> 
> As always, thank you for all your lovely comments. They all make me smile.

“Miss Cooke? Yes, I’m just calling to let you know your car is all set to go. You can come pick it up at any point.”

Casey sighs, thinking. Moves and countermoves. Her car broke, her uncle paid for it to be fixed without her consent. Now that it is fixed and paid for, does she dare pick it up? What does it mean if she takes the car, the car he paid for?

Does she owe him? What will he expect? She _told_ him not to pay for it…

And now that she’s mouthed off to him via text, he’s gone silent, silent as the grave. Casey can’t help but wonder what his next move will be. If she takes the car back, she as good as admits she needs him and his charity.

Casey bites her lip, staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She can’t take the car. She isn’t attached to it anyway, she can save up for a new used car, and she won’t need to take a cab once spring comes. That will help. She will figure it out.

“Miss Cooke, are you still there? When can we expect you to pick up your vehicle?” The sales rep sounds slightly impatient and Casey frowns at his tone.

“You know, my Uncle John mentioned he needed the car for an upcoming occasion, the tires are balding on his Ford. If you could call him, let him know the car is ready for him, that would be great. He would appreciate it so much.”

It’s a lie, but the auto shop won’t know. She can’t take the car, that would be like letting Uncle John win the war. Casey isn’t willing to roll over and that that happen quite so easily.

“Alright, I’ll let him know.”

“Thanks.”

Hanging up the phone, Casey rubs the bridge of her nose with a stressed sigh. The days had been slipping by with an excruciatingly slow pace, work picking back up at a maddening rate due to the end of Q4 arriving and passing. Casey had barely seen Kevin since that Friday night and it was already Tuesday. He’d had Monday off, which he used as a day to sleep in until one and then headed off to see Dr. Fletcher.

Casey had yet to hear how that had gone.

They’d been in an awkward place, despite everything seemingly being fine between the two of them alone. Casey just can’t shake the feeling of mistrust that has crept into her heart. It feels like poison and she wishes that she could wave a wand and have everything go back to normal, to before that fateful night.

Now, when she looks at Kevin, she always stares a little harder, hesitates before touching him.

Despite how strongly she feels for Kevin, she now sees Dennis whenever he looks at her with those serious blue eyes and the knowledge is strangling her.

She feels like she’s been lied to and it's eating her, the furious burn in her stomach that makes her chest feel so tight she can barely breathe. Casey finds herself replaying Friday night over and over again in her head and with every replay she feels more horrified.

It doesn’t matter that Kevin didn’t mean to hurt her; he still did.

He didn’t have a much control over his alters as he had originally led her to believe and she doesn’t know where that leaves them now.

 

* * *

 

“You’re not being much fun today, Casey. Et cetera.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Casey mutters, furiously scrubbing her bathtub on her hands and knees. “You are perfectly capable of turning on the stereo yourself, Hedwig.”

He scoffs with exaggeration, sitting somewhere behind her. “But. Casey. I want yooouu to dance wit me! You aren’t being very nice.”

She looks at him over her shoulder, clutching the tub sponge in her hand. “I’m not dancing with you Hedwig. Stop asking me.”

“Whhyyyy? You’re mean. A total butt. Et cetera. Mr. Dennis says he will behave.”

Casey rolls her eyes and smashes the rough sponge against the bath’s surface with righteous intent. “Well, I don’t trust your ‘ _Mr. Dennis’_ to keep his word. He’s crossed one too many lines and we all know what he thinks of my dancing. Blame him, not me.”

Hedwig scrunches his face up, arms wrapped around his knees. “You’re just a sour turd. Mr. Dennis is nice to me-”

“Hedwig-”

“Mr. Dennis told me it’s your fault, so don’t lie. You were dancin’ an he did the best he could to be good, whatever that means, an you just kept dancin’!”

_He blames_ me _for what he did? For his lack of self-control?_ Casey sees red for a brief moment. Before she knows it, the sponge is out of her hands and hitting Hedwig in the chest wetly.

Casey knows it’s a mistake before the sponge even leaves her hands and she feels horrible immediately.

For a moment, Hedwig looks too shocked and hurt to move. His lips tremble, like he’s going to cry, but then the edges of his face smooth into hard lines. Cold intelligence stares back at Casey, blinking a few times to focus his blurred vision. Dennis looks down at his lap, where the sponge is. “Did you just throw this filthy sponge at a child?”

Casey slaps her hand against the edge of the tub. “Dennis, I have five other filthy things I can throw at _you_ and I promise you will like none of them.”

He jerks away from the sponge with a disgusted groan, looking at his hands in horror, before glaring up at her. With inspiration, Casey grabs the toilet brush from its holding can and gestures towards Dennis with it, watching his face pale in a rush.

It gives her brief satisfaction, but he doesn’t need to know that she has absolutely no intention of touching Kevin’s body with the thing.

Before she knows it, another shift occurs with violent swiftness. 

“Whoa! What is going on here? Baby gurl, why are ya starting fights? What is goin’ on wit ya?”

Casey puts the toilet brush back in its holder. “I’m clearly trying to clean my bathroom, but no one is leaving me alone. None of you.”

Barry looks hurt, looking at her with a raised brow. “This isn’t like ya at all. Ya are really upset about that other night, aren’t ya? We tried giving ya space, honey. Look, I talked wit Patricia and Dennis. Honey, Dennis isn’t allowed to play-act anymore. Patricia was furious. Fur-eee-uuusss. Ya have no idea. He has good intentions, but he doesn’t use his damn brain ta think, if ya catch my meaning.”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Casey mutters, examining the tub with renewed interest. The grout was looking better.

“Ya are in a mood. Do ya want me ta sick Jade on you? She’ll talk ya ear straight off. Really give ya somethin' ta bitch about.”

“I haven’t the faintest desire to deal with Jade right now,” Casey mutters, standing up to wash her hands at the sink.

Barry gives her a reproachful glare. “I hope ya straightn’ up ya attitude. We have a date Thursday.”

Casey hasn’t forgotten. “You look ridiculous in that track suit.”

He looks down at his body and winces. “Gawd, it is awful, why are none of my clothes here?”  


* * *

 

When Thursday rolls into place, Casey finds herself slipping on her strappy black heels in addition to a nice, black a-line cocktail dress. Barry is dressed in light grey slacks that hug his ass perfectly, nice black dress shoes and a matching button-down shirt.

“Don’t you look dashing,” Casey says as they walk to the dance studio, hopping off the train together.

“It’s my natural state, love.”

They had a few drinks beforehand, loosening up their joints and giving Casey a tad bit more courage to go dancing in front of people she doesn’t know. In public. Gasp. It also gentled her moody nature, which she realized could have gone either way. Wine could have made her more angry about the state of their relationship, but she lucked out in the fifty-fifty shot; she feels mellow with a glass of wine in her.

They start out as a hot mess at class, mainly due to Casey and her inexperience. “You need to let him lead,” the instructor says for the third time, exasperated.

“I’m trying,” Casey says, “But he doesn’t move fast enough! I keep waiting for him to give me the next cue and it isn’t there, so I give it to him.”

“Hush, baby. I’m trying to make us look good, because ya are flailing around like a chicken wit her head cut off.”

The instructor sighs. “Casey, I need you to move like a snail. Painfully slow. Wait for his cues. Stop pushing him into them. You have to let him be the guiding force on the dance floor. That’s how’s it been for centuries. Try again.”

The music starts and they move through a few of their steps before Barry cues her for a spin before they come back together in a rock step fashion. “It’s how it’s been for years,” Casey mock whispers at him, “Just follow Barry.”

“Keep that forked tongue in ya mouth,” Barry says back, laughter in his eyes as he twirls her again.

It’s fun, despite Casey’s overwhelming urge to try and control the situation. The instructor smiles, “This one has trust issues, doesn’t she? Always wants to see her next cue immediately and doesn’t like to wait.”

“I’d say it’s the impatience of her youth,” Barry replies after they finish the moves they’ve been taught up until that point.

“Let’s change things up then. Do you want to try some Bachata?”

“Sure!” Barry says it enthusiastically.

Casey rolls her eyes. He’s loving this more than he has any right to, but at least it is getting her mind off of other issues.

The stand facing each other, one set of hands clasped while the other is on their shoulders. “The moves are rather simple, this is more of a club dance, so generally it is done very close together. We won’t do that today, as we are just learning the basic steps. Casey you can get flirty with your hips in this dance on every final step, like 1, 2, 3, 4. On the four, give a little flick.”

Casey laughs raucously. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I need to see Barry lead first. Then we can worry about my booty shaking.”

“Minx,” Barry snaps. “I’ll show you leading.”

They practice going side to side, back and forth to the eight count movements, counted aloud by the instructor. The dance proves to not be too difficult, at least in its most basic form. The pair catches on to the base moves quickly and the instructor claps. “Those are the main steps for the whole dance. There are some turns and spin that can be added in later, but we will worry about that next time. Step closer, so that one of Barry’s legs in more in between yours, Casey. This dance is traditionally done very close together, but I don’t want you two falling over.”

Barry and Casey take a step closer and Barry wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. Casey giggles and shakes her hips a little. The instructor starts the music again and off they go, practicing the moves they’ve been taught but in a closer range. Beginning to feel the music now that she knows the basic steps, Casey starts swinging her hip out on the final beat, causing Barry to grin. He whispers in her ear, “Keep that up and who knows where we will end up tonight?”

Casey purses her lips at him, “Ooh, scandalous.”

He kisses her and she laughs against his lips.

Their feet get mixed up and they both take a tumble to the floor.

The instructor shakes her head with a smile. “Let’s keep the public displays of affection to a minimum for now, or else you both will have a lot of bruises.”

Barry grins widely and helps Casey stand back up. “Sorry, love. Couldn’t help myself.”  


***

_I pray you learn to trust_  
_Have faith in both of us_  
_And keep room in your heart for two_

Precious – Depeche Mode

***  


On Friday night, Casey goes on a dinner date with Kevin, finding herself staring at his features more than she means to. She fights between seeing him and seeing Dennis. There is no hint of Barry between the pair, but the similarities between Kevin and Dennis terrify her.

Dennis may be sterner, but Kevin is naturally serious and thoughtful, his face smooth where Dennis tends to pick up a scowl. When Kevin scowls, the expression is the same and Casey always has to look away.

She still doesn’t know how she is going to get past what happened. She hopes she can and soon, but doesn't know if moving past the situation makes her weak.

When they get to her place afterwards and get ready for bed, Kevin comments on it.

“I don’t like when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re afraid of me,” Kevin says, blue eyes dark in the shadowed room.

Casey gazes up at him as he leans back against the headboard, shirtless. The muscles in his arms and chest easily defined, flexing whenever he shifts his position. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He smiles cheerlessly, an echo of his normal grin. Kevin tilts his head back with his eyes closed, exposing the long line of his neck as he rests against the wood. “See, I see your lips saying that, but your eyes are telling me a different story. It’s killing me, Casey.”

She rolls over moodily, letting her back face him. “Then you need to get your eyes checked. Next thing you know, you’ll be wearing glasses too.”

Kevin’s hand lands on her exposed shoulder, pulling her until she is on her back looking up at him. There’s a frown on his face, his lips tight. “Why do you do this? It’s like you want to start a fight. I’m here with you right now, literally me. No one else. This defensive wall you’ve put up can go away. You’ve been doing this for the past few days, I’ve seen you.”

Casey pushes his hand away. “And for how long will it be you? How long before you slip away? Hours from now? Minutes from now? I don’t even know who I wake up with every morning.”

“You are scared.”

Huffing through her nose, Casey replies, “Maybe I have good reason to be, don’t you think?”

Kevin’s eyes go darker in the shadows being thrown across the room, the moonlight not touching him. He presses a hand to his forehead, face twisting in pain. He grits his teeth and Casey can see a muscle in his jaw twitch. She shakes her head. “See? There it is. You almost slipped away, because you don’t like what I’m saying to you.”

She watches as he presses his thumbs to his eyes briefly before finally looking at her once more. “I can make the choice. It isn’t always easy because confrontation sends me to a darker place, a place where only Dennis exists, because that’s where he’s always existed. Believe me right now when I tell you that I’m trying my best to stay here with you and be what you need.”

“That’s not the point, Kevin. It’s a start, but it doesn’t fix the root cause. Barry is you, but more extroverted and carefree. Hedwig is your innocence. Patricia is the careful matriarch you never had. Dennis is you on steroids…and possibly Viagra. Where do the lines begin and end? How do I know what is real and what isn’t with you?”

Kevin's looking at her with that tortured expression of his and Casey hates it. Hates how his face shows the pain that she feels inside. It isn't fair.

He grabs her hand and presses it against his chest, over his heart. Casey can feel it beating steadily under her palm. “Does this feel real enough for you?”

“But-”

“It’s true, many of them can see through my eyes at any given time, even without my knowing. Sometimes, I give up control and depending on who it is, I have no knowledge of what occurs. At the end of the day this is still my body and my heart only beats for you. Despite who may behind the steering wheel.”

“Kevin-”

He moves to hover over her, balancing on his forearms, legs on either side of her. Kevin’s lips hover just above her lips and Casey can feel the heat of them through the small centimeter distance separating them. “What,” he whispers lowly.

She asks him the question that has been haunting her for nights on end. “How do I know you will stay with me?”

Kevin’s eyes are dark galaxies above hers, dark and eternal as he gazes down at her. “Does Dennis kiss you like this?”

His lips caress hers gently, a whisper, before his tongue traces her lower lip. Casey gasps, liquid fire flowing through her, her mouth opening under his ministrations. Kevin lowers his body until it presses Casey into the bed, his desire evident against the apex of her thighs. They kiss hungrily for a few moments, slow and unhurried in that typical fashion of Kevin’s. He’s there and present and he knows what he wants; Casey’s favorite Kevin.

Pulling away from her lips, Kevin kisses a line down her neck, down her collar bone to the skin above her tank top. Her body screams for him to pull the material down, expose herself to him. “Does he touch you like this?” He runs a gentle hand down her cheek, loving. The hand travels down the path his lips had taken, going to hover over one of her breasts carefully.

Always allowing her the chance to say no. Always caring about her feelings.

Tears prick at her eyes as a rush of emotions fill her. “Kevin, I…he’ll never be you.”

Slowly pulling the straps off of her shoulder, he gently pulls her shirt down until its around her waist, leaving her completely exposed to his gaze. He nuzzles one of her mounds and looks up at her meaningfully. “Don’t you think I know that, Casey?”

Oh.

Then his tongue laves at her sensitive nipple, pleasure tearing through Casey at the points that they touch. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she places them on his head, trying to pull him closer to the object of her pleasure. She arches her back, moaning as he finally sucks her nipple into his mouth, sucking as much of her breast in with it as possible.

At the sound of her moan, he grinds his erection into the sheets lustily, trying to alleviate his own ache. He spends enough time licking across her breasts, paying attention to both until Casey is panting in sheer agony, needing him. She presses her hips against his stomach, needing relief for the building pressure.

Kevin moves back up to her lips, groaning as he licks deep into her mouth, his hands touching her hips and breasts as he presses against her. “God, I need you. I need you so bad,” he rasps huskily, nipping at her earlobe. “You have no idea. This week you've been so distant. I've missed you, I've missed being close to you like this.”

With careful, seeking hands, he slowly pulls her underwear down her legs. Casey swallows thickly, flushing red with embarrassment. He’s looking at her, his eyes eating her up. With slow, deliberate movements, he slides his workout shorts off his hips, exposing the sharp lines of his lower abdomen to Casey. It’s so intimate and erotic that she can’t help but reach out and touch his hip, the space just above his erection.

He smiles at her with his abdomen twitching under her hands, says, “You’re doing okay?”

She nods quietly; Kevin has always made her feel so safe and loved, especially in bed, something she’s never experienced before. He’s made her enjoy intimacy when she thought she never would.

With shy hands, she reaches out to touch him, enjoying the velvet heat and hardness of him. His head falls back and he groans as she strokes him softly, gently. His tip is wet and she brushes a thumb over it, watching his hips stutter with restraint.

“Casey, please, I need…I want to be in you,” he says, redness coming to his cheekbones, faint in the darkness.

His body moves over hers and Casey wraps her arms around his shoulders. She looks at his face, her nerves shaking. She can feel him, his wet tip against her sensitive bud, rubbing against it enough to send her mind spiraling with want. He kisses her forehead gently as he rubs against her, their combined wetness allowing him to slide up and down her lower lips. He groans and presses his forehead against hers briefly, “You’re soaked. I love that, feeling you on my cock. Wanting me.”

Casey whimpers, closes her eyes. The sensations are too much, her emotions running rampant. This is it, this is the moment they’ve been working towards all these months. Every freaking moment of pain the price for this emotionally charged point in time.

Kevin grinds his cock against her for a few more tense moments, his tip slipping and sliding against her bundle of nerves, her swollen entrance. Finally, the head of his cock catches in position and he pauses, breathing heavy for a few moments before slowly pushing his hips forward, stretching her.

Gasping, trying to accommodate him into her body, Casey digs her fingers into his shoulders, distracting herself from the slight burn accompanied by taking him into her body for the first time. It takes a few moments of pushing in, but when Kevin is fully seated inside of her, he groans, dropping his head to her shoulder. “I love you, Casey.”

Biting her lip against the ridiculous emotional response that she is feeling, Casey whispers back, “I love you too, Kevin.”

“How are you feeling?” He whispers it softly.

“Full. A little uncomfortable,” Casey responds, feeling his width inside of her, heated and hard. “I don’t really know what to do.”

“I won’t move. You can work your hips against me, whatever feels good to you. Don’t worry about me,” he says tightly, his body shaking.

True to his word, he doesn’t thrust his hips or do anything of the sort to move out of her comfort zone. Cautiously, Casey tries what he told her to do, grinding her hips against his in small side to side movements, letting her sensitive bud rub against his pubic bone. After a few moments of doing this and listening to his agonized panting, Casey feels her inner muscles begin to relax, the threads of pleasure beginning to race through her again with her clit occupied against him.

“I want you to move,” she breathes finally, pushing her hips against his harder.

“Anything for you,” he rasps against her neck, finally rotating his hips against her gently.

She concentrates on the slide of him, in and out, the feel, knowing it’s a part of his flesh, the man that she loves more than anything, despite all of their ups and downs. Her legs come up around his hips slightly, cradling him as he slowly works towards the finish line, building the pressure steadily.

It’s better than Casey thought it could be. She thought intimacy only brought pain, but this…this was something beautiful.

“I’m getting close, I’m going to…”

Casey moans, throws her head back. “I know. I know. Kevin-”

“I want you to come with me. What do you need, what do you need me to do?”

Grabbing one of his hands, Casey puts it just above where they are connecting, urging him wordless to touch her in time to his thrusts. His fingers work at her, his thrusts becoming more erratic and he careens towards his climax, pulling Casey along with him, sending fire up and down her whole body.

Finally, Casey hears it, the moan deep in his chest as his whole body tenses, her name on his tongue as his hips press hard into her for one final thrust. The sound of him, the feel of him, touching her, it’s more than enough and she falls over the edge with him. Her inner muscles contract around him and he groans again, grinding his hips into her as she feels him swell inside of her.

She can feel his heartbeat inside of her body and she’s never felt more vulnerable or connected to anyone in her life.

Kevin, staying connected to her, lowers his body to the side so that he doesn’t crush her, facing each other on their sides now. He sighs, brushing hair out of her face with a satisfied, tired smile. “That was…”

“Mhmm,” Casey hums sleepily, enjoying the feel of him inside of her.

She never wants to be without him, but she’s terrified that deep down she knows she can’t always have the man that’s beside her in this very moment, no matter how desperately he loves her. It was a beautiful distraction, one that Casey will let work for now.

Kevin is so good at distractions.

Casey loves him so much it hurts, it hurts…

She falls into sleep to the sound of his breathing and the feel of his heart against the palm of her hand.  


* * *

 

When Casey wakes the next morning, her body feels tired and relaxed. She rolls over to find Kevin, only to see that his side of the bed is empty. Frowning, she sits up, naked as the day she was born, trying to figure out where he went.

He didn’t leave, did he? After what they did…

Pulling on a robe to stay warm, Casey follows her nose into the main living area, the modern open floor plan giving her an obvious view into the kitchen. The smell of pancakes and coffee is delicious and brings a tired smile to her face. She can see Kevin in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup.

The whole picture would have been perfect if everything hadn’t been spotless and clean.

Casey can’t help the resigned sigh that comes to her as she sinks into one of the kitchen table chairs, staring at Kevin’s back. Or Dennis. Whichever.

Upon hearing her, he turns his head to look at her from over his shoulder. Behind his glasses, Dennis looks vaguely surprised to see her. “I didn’t realize you were up already.”

Trying to center herself and stay calm, Casey reminds herself that he wasn’t doing anything threatening…yet. She shrugs her shoulders deeper into her fuzzy robe, hiding. “I didn’t realize you were here. I mean. I knew Kevin was but…”

For a second, she can see last night written in his eyes and she wonders if he saw. If he watched. 

The end of her sentence trails off hopelessly, but he doesn’t comment. Within moments, Casey finds a new cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes in front of her. “Aren’t these yours?”

Running a hand over his buzzed hair, Dennis doesn’t look at her. “I can make more.”

Despite the situation, Casey’s mouth waters at the sight of the food. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he drawls in that low tone that sends warmth into her lower regions.

This is how she finds herself this morning, in an almost surreal dream as Dennis sits across from her, sipping his black coffee and pouring maple syrup on his pancakes. They eat quietly, unsure of what to talk about, too much awkwardness between them from historical occurrences. Dennis was never much of a talker anyway, a small blessing in Casey’s opinion.

He’s wearing Kevin’s clothes, loose workout pants and a fitted t-shirt, clinging to his biceps with every bite he takes from his fork. Casey doesn’t notice.

She _doesn’t_.

When both of their plates are empty, he clears the table, putting the dirty dishes into the wash. Casey twiddles her fingers, unsure of what to do with herself. He eventually makes himself at home on her couch, turning on the news, idly bringing his coffee cup to his lips. Casey can see he has no intention of leaving any time soon.

Sighing to herself, she gets up and gets her phone, deciding to play a few restaurant dash games to pass time. The next debate for her is where to play on her phone. Does she hide in her room, an obvious escape? Or does she join him, step up from being this spiteful broad when he’s clearly been trying to be better than he has been.

Because Patricia and Dr. Fletcher are right. She’s going to have to accept him as part of Kevin eventually, even if he terrifies her. Even if she doesn't want to accept him.

Choosing to not sit beside him, Casey opts for sprawling on her floor rug, tapping through her game peacefully while he stares at the tv. At some point, Casey glances up and meets his gaze, flushing with embarrassment. There’s something there, in his eyes. She swears that he knows about the night before, like he’s well aware of everything that went on. Casey ducks her head and stares down at her phone anxiously.

He shifts on the couch, eyes flicking away from her and back to the tv. Casey wonders if he is even paying attention to the screen or if he is just…just. Being there. With her but not. Thinking of her. Wanting her. Restraining himself.

Sitting up suddenly, Casey looks at him with a stare that takes all of her nerves. “This is stupid.”

She stands and starts walking towards the couch, willing her feet to keep walking forward despite her mind turning and running in fear. Strangely enough, he looks just as terrified, watching her with a deer in headlights expression on his stern face.

Casey stops just beside him and the couch, looking at the empty spot beside him. She wishes she had a bit more courage to just plop down without a care, but she’s nearly frozen. He looks up at her and licks his lip, that habit of his that she’s noticed. His dark blue gaze is agonized. “I, uh, I get nervous too. About this. You.”

That slow drawl of his sends her spiraling. She can see how much that admittance cost him and she lets out the breath that she has been holding in her lungs. Taking the final leap of faith, she sits down beside him, her thigh pressed against his, her hip molded to him.

He jolts as if electrocuted by her touch. “ _Easy_ ,” he growls lowly.

Dennis’s chest heaves as if he has been running for miles and Casey freezes beside him, soaking in his warmth even as she watches him carefully. His jaw is clenched and she can see the vein in his temple pounding. “Is this not okay?”

Casey almost wants to laugh; she never imagined she would have to ask a man if her touch were okay or if she was moving too fast.

He leans back into the cushions, resting his head against the back of the couch. Casey wants to run her tongue up the line of his throat, but she quashes that visceral image. The fear and want that she feels mix into a heady and dangerous drug, a high that she wishes she never felt in the first place.

The tv becomes white noise in the background, almost non-existent as Dennis tries to calm himself, looking for his self-control.

After some painful minutes, he lets out a shaky sigh. Before Casey can say anything, his arm is wrapped around her, pulling her even closer, encasing her in the heat of his body. Casey squeaks nervously, unsure of his intentions, if he’s lost control, but he just shushes her. Half pulling her into his lap, he reaches for the remote and begins flipping through the channels, looking for something more interesting to watch.

Casey is stiff in his arms, her heart racing like the wings of a hummingbird. He’s not harming her or being rough with her, but he is aroused, she can feel that against her leg now that’s she practically on him due to his sudden maneuvering.

Dennis settles on an action movie, relaxing further into the couch, his inhales and exhales moving her with a gentle in and out rhythm. Noticing her reluctance to settle into him, he says, “Hey. If we can’t get through the end of a movie, we got bigger problems. You tell me if you get scared. I don’t want to scare you. Kevin…he wants us to do better.”

His voice is a rumble in his chest and she can feel every word on her back. She looks at him, takes in his furrowed brow, the familiar scowl. His eyes are boring into her and she can’t escape the look there that she sees. “Thanks, Dennis. I’ll let you know.”

Casey allows herself to relax into his body.

 

* * *

 

When work ends on Monday, Casey breathes a sigh of relief, exhausted.

The elevator dings, spitting her out onto the first floor. Her heels click loudly as she strides towards the front doors, only stopping dead in her tracks when she sees a familiar shape leaning over the front desk. The front desk girl, Mary says, “Well, look! There she is, just on time. Casey, why didn’t you tell me your Uncle was so charming! It is so sweet of him to come pick you up. He even brought your car.”

All the blood drains from Casey’s face as she stands there, frozen. For a moment, she really isn’t sure what to do. Her facial muscles won’t move, not even to fake a grin. Her Uncle turns and smiles at her, jovial and friendly.

_This can’t be happening._

“The auto shop called and told me that you didn’t have time to come get your car, so I figured I would do a huge favor and bring it to you. Come on, let’s go, I’ll drop you off at home with the car. I can always get cab home. Mary gave me your new address.”

He winks at Mary flirtatiously and the traitorous woman giggles. 

There were no words that could be said. Her uncle was adored by so many people he met, she’d tried to tell someone before, once when she was younger, but they brushed her off, telling her to not say such ugly things about so nice a person.

It feels like the world is cracking around Casey as he strides towards her, his hand warm and large on her back.

Her mind is frozen, because the only thing she could possibly do is run, but he would catch her. He could make up a story, saying she’s delusional or off her medication and prone to flights of craziness and mania. He would be believed. He’d been believed before.

She’s a fly caught in a spiders web and this time she’s at the spiders mercy.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she breathes out, her skin going cold.

“Don’t be silly,” he says in response, guiding her out to her idling car.

Once they are seated inside, Uncle John says. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

The words are spoken in a tone so level that Casey can’t ignore the danger behind them. Her hold body freezes, ice running down her spine in a wave. She should have known better than to tell him to fuck off that night.

She should have known.

“You’re always making a big deal about things. Making trouble when you shouldn’t. First moving out, switching apartments without telling me, seeing some fucking _guy_ -”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Casey mutters quietly.

“Excuse me? You are my business, your father, my brother, left you in my care and what do I get for all the hard work I’ve put into you? Running around with some motherfucker that’s twice your damn age-”

He cuts himself off, stops talking, clenching his jaw. He’s such a hypocrite and Casey just wants to bash his head against the window until is cracks and blood is all over. Uncle John taps one of his hands on her steering wheel in clear frustration. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. You just make me so angry, Casey. I don’t know why you do the things you do.”

_Because of you,_ she thinks darkly

They drive in near silence, aside from the pound of Casey’s heart in her skull. It could only be a bad dream, a nightmare. The kind that follows you out of your sleep and haunts you into your waking hours.

With a cheerful tone, Uncle John says, “This is you, isn’t it, Casey-bear?”

He stops in front of her apartment building and terror is nearly making Casey hyperventilate. She tries to keep her fear hidden, doesn’t want him to see, a shark smelling blood in the water. “It is,” she replies as flatly as she can.

_Please, please don’t ask to see my place._ It’s a mantra she keeps repeating to herself desperately, hoping that if she wishes for it hard enough it will come true.

Uncle John looks at her from the driver’s seat, studying her. “I’m not sure why you thought you could keep your new apartment a secret this long. You know I’ll always find you. One way or another.”

“You didn’t have to pay for the car, Uncle John. I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“This isn’t about the damn car,” he snaps.

They stare each other in the eye for a few moments and Casey can see what it is about; control. As long as he can have her under his thumb, all is well in his world. Not in hers. He would never let her go; he’d made her his world even before her father had even been placed six feet deep. Seeing the broken realization in her gaze, he nods slightly. “Glad we can finally come to an understanding, Casey-bear.”

He grabs her by the back of her head and pulls her closer, his lips pressing against her forehead in a chaste kiss. He whispers, “Sweet dreams, Casey.”

Casey hears the words from underwater, distant and echoing oddly in her head. It feels like something has shriveled up and died inside of her.

With a near cry, she tears herself from his grasp and shoots out the car door, fumbling with her keys as she barrels into her apartment. The world feels like it is spinning horribly, twisting this way and that as she careens up the stairs, running like the devil himself is behind her.

The last thing on her mind is where he plans on leaving her car and car keys. Probably in her little mailbox.

She doesn’t hear the loud clash of his boots behind her, he didn’t follow her up, but still she drops her keys when she reaches her door, nearly sobbing with panic. After a few more fumbles, she finally gets the keys in the door and throws herself in, slamming and locking the door behind her. She throws the deadbolt for good measure.

With a whimper, Casey rests her back against the door before slowly sliding to the floor. Her apartment is dark, silent. Empty.

Covering her face with her hands, Casey has never been more glad to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, crap. That escalated quickly, didn't it?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which literally everyone makes poor decisions due to their emotional responses to unpleasant stimuli. 
> 
> Except Kevin. Poor Kevin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or Split, they all belong to M. Night Shyamalan.
> 
> AN: WARNING. This is a dark chapter. It isn't exactly nice or pleasant. Casey has been thrown out of whack in light of John crawling back into her life and gaining the upperhand with gaining knowledge of where she is living. Mentions of drug abuse, past and present, thoughts of suicide, past molestation, etc. all pops up here.
> 
> Also. Sorry for the long delay. I've gained a much larger territory at work so things have gotten wild. I was up to my eyeballs in tequila Friday night with my husband for some much needed stress relief. Then training with the horse all weekend to prep for our next competition. I'M TRYING TO KEEP UP PEOPLE I DO TOO MUCH CUZ I'M NUTZ. Hopefully there aren't too many mistakes in this chapter, because this one is intimidating me. 8100 words, what could go wrong?

The next morning, Casey wakes up on the floor, body aching and stiff. It felt safer, sleeping against the only viable entry to her apartment; she would know if the door opened. She would have been hit by it, but she damn well would have known if John were trying to come through.

A deep sense of sadness and hopelessness settles over her as she stares down at her cold fingers, her body groaning as she pulls herself to her knees. She’s not sure that she even got many hours of sleep, terror coursing through her veins. She’d been frozen, like a deer in headlights, sitting against the front door, afraid to leave it least John come barging through.

Her bladder is burning; she needs to use the bathroom and she needs to use it bad. In her adrenaline driven panic, she’d forgotten about her own bodily functions, a terrified board against the entryway. Giving herself a pep-talk, she stands up with a groan, her back complaining about the movement. She makes her way to the bathroom and sits down to do her business, head in her hands miserably.

Life isn’t supposed to be this way.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

She’s worked so hard, tried so fucking hard, yet John has found a way back to her yet again.

When she’s done, she splashes water on her face, standing in front of the sink. Her eyes are black pits reflecting back at her, dark like the abyss with no light. Uncle John knows where to find her now and she can’t break the lease on this apartment. The last apartment was easier to leave, no penalties, but this place is nicer, better run. The landlord would charge her for the remaining months of rent and she can’t afford that.

She can’t escape this. Not this time. Casey stifles a sob and tears her gaze away from the mirror. She’s just lucky this apartment has a deadbolt on the door; it would make it harder for Uncle John to get in when he decides he wants to work on his human punching bag again.

Casey hauls herself over to her bed and sits on it, feeling numb and panicked all at once. It feels strange, like she is drowning under water and trying to get air, her chest a heavy weight to bear. Her heart hurts; its pounding hard against her ribcage and Casey picks up her phone and calls Nick, letting him know she won’t be able to come to work today.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, we all have days like this. And you haven’t taken any time off this year, take it easy Casey,” his voice is smooth, low. Calm. A calm rock in the storm of her mind.

Letting out a shaky sigh, Casey responds, “Thank you, Mr. O’Hara. I appreciate it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Feel better, Casey.”

Hanging up her phone, she leans over towards the bedside table, opening the drawer. Digging through some of her belongings, she finally hears the jingle of pills towards the back. Casey reaches her hand back and pulls out the prescription bottle, reads the instructions and ignores them. _Xanax, please take one as needed,_ Casey muses darkly as she takes three pills instead.

It takes about fifteen minutes for the effects to begin to show. Her normal dose would have just calmed her panic attack, her racing heart. The extra pill on top leaves her floating into beautiful nothingness. She stumbles over to the couch and flicks on the tv, only looking for the sound. She can barely focus, blinking slowly at the screen as things play out in front of her.

She doesn’t care and that’s the beauty of it. She already made sure the deadbolt was thrown on the door. Casey doesn’t want to care about anything else, she just wants the memories of pain and humiliation to fade from her mind.

Eventually, she can barely even keep her eyes open. Everything is bleeding together, becoming one, melting before her eyes. Feels like she’s taken five sleeping pills and a bottle of wine. Casey makes her way back to her bed and curls up in her fluffy blanket, loving the warmth against her skin. It makes her feel safe. The pills make her feel safe and numb.

It has been months since she needed to take the pills; she hasn’t had a panic attack in so long and the drug is affecting her far stronger. Ever since last night, all she can think about is her many memories of Uncle John backhanding her, muscling her down onto the ground, telling her to stop fighting so hard, it would only make things worse, tearing her shirt off her body…

Casey blinks the thoughts away, disgusting and horrifying as they are. The pills have numbed her to it. That happened to someone else, not _her_.

It wasn’t her body. It was someone else.

She doesn’t care about what didn’t happen to her personally.

“I’ve missed these pills,” she slurs aloud to no one in particular. “Why did I ever stop taking you?”

It’s heaven when everything fades to black, like an old photo burning away slowly.  
  


* * *

 

The sound of the door slamming into the deadbolt wakes Casey up, adrenaline spiking through her pill induced haze.

She feels like she’s moving through sludge despite her panic. Her limbs are barely moving. It takes her a moment to realize that the front door has been opened successfully, but the deadbolt has stopped it from fully opening. In a fog, she digs into the drawer beside her bed and finds the tactical knife she has hidden there.

Casey will use it, she’d be considered justified, wouldn’t she? The world would see that she’d be defending her home from an intruder, right?

The deadbolt hits again loudly and the noise is jarring.

“Casey! Are you alright? I’ve been calling you for the past hour!”

For a moment, her mind can’t comprehend the sound of Kevin’s voice. Her mind even wonders if it is not real, that’s she imagining his voice instead of John’s because it is safer to hear Kevin instead. She freezes with the knife in hand, unsure.

“Am I going to have to call the cops? Casey, I haven’t heard from you since yesterday morning, I’m really fucking worried.”

In a rushed decision, she places the knife back in the drawer and walks towards the entryway. Now that she can see Kevin through the crack in the door, some of the tension in her body bleeds away. When he catches sight of her through the gap, his eyes soften and he visibly sighs. “You scared the crap out of me!”

With a marked slowness, Casey undoes the deadbolt and steps back, allowing Kevin to step in. His arms are around her instantly, his heart pounding against her cheek. 

“I’ve never heard you swear,” she says against his coat.

For some reason, that is all that she can think of saying. He's far too sweet.

He looks down at her, examining her body suspiciously. “You have no idea how worried I’ve been. What happened? You disappeared after work yesterday.”

Rubbing her eyes tiredly, the after effects of the pills heavy, Casey looks towards the clock. Her vision isn’t focused enough to read the numbers. “What time is it?”

Kevin is looking at her with a shocked look, his blue eyes boring into her. “It’s past five. Have…have you been sleeping all day? What is going on with you, you’re not acting normal.”

With dull eyes, she looks at him and considers her lie. She doesn’t want to admit that she took enough Xanax to knock herself out for a day, doesn’t want to talk about what happened the night before. She doesn’t want him to know, he’d be so worried for her and she doesn’t need him to bear that weight on his shoulders.

“I just felt ill today. I took some NyQuil earlier…guess I really passed out.”

Based on the expression on his face, he isn’t buying it. “And last night?”

“I was sick then too.”

With a frown, he grabs her wrists and pushes her sleeves back, checking them suspiciously. She knows what he’s looking for, but she’s too exhausted to fucking be offended by the insinuation.

“Something happened last night, Casey. You don’t act this way for no reason. You’ve never acted this way before. I’m trying to help you.”

Inhaling hard, Casey shouts with the little energy she has, “Nothing happened! I’m just feeling sick. I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well. What more do you want from me?”

Her defense shields are going up, she’s retreating because that’s what is safer for them both.

She doesn’t need him to get caught up in all of this. She needs him far away from John, safe and sound.

Kevin doesn’t believe her, but he lets it go. He sees the determination in her stance; she isn’t going to give anything away and she’s oh so good at keeping things hidden away inside. He’s never been one for confrontation anyway; there is no pretending he is. He sighs and runs a hand over his close shaven hair. “I’ll make you some soup then, if you’re so sick. Chicken noodle?”

Casey lays down on the couch and runs a hand over her eyes. She doesn't like fighting with him and she never can stay upset. Her irritation stems from her fear for him, wanting him out of harms way, but he wouldn't understand. “That would be lovely, Kevin. Thank you.”

After a few minutes, he brings two bowls over to the couch and sits beside her. They eat in relative silence until he finally asks, “So, you’re really not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?”

“Nothing is going on.”

“Casey…”

“Just let it go. I’m fine.”

“Did you go to work? Or did you just stay here moping with your pills all day?”

She fixes him with a look. “Why won’t you drop this?”

“I’ve seen you take NyQuil before. This isn’t it.” He runs a hand through her hair gently, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You know I’m just terrified for you. I don’t like it that you keep things like this from me. You’re strong, stronger than me. But. You have to let me support you sometimes.”

“I’ll let you know when I need help, Kevin. Right now, I just want to sit here, eat soup and watch tv. Can we do that? Please?"

She's begging.

He presses another kiss to her cheek. “Will it help calm you down?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” It’s a cop out, but he’s given her an easy exit route. Casey would be a fool to not take it.

“Then that’s what we will do.”

They sit curled together on the couch into the wee hours of the night, watching some comedy movies, hoping they lift Casey’s spirits. She isn’t focused on the movies, she’s focused on darker things. She’s focused on all the ways she doesn’t deserve this good man in her life and why she shouldn’t have him.

She can’t have him know. He can’t know that John knows where she lives again. That he as good as has her under his thumb again.

Kevin would be out of his mind with worry and then where would they be? His mind would get crushed under the stress of that worry and Dennis would take control and Casey doesn’t want to know where that would lead.

And John…he’s a dangerous man with a lot of friends. If he were to show up with Kevin at her home, she’d hate to think of what would happen. Dennis would kill him, deep down she knows it and though she would love nothing more than for John to disappear from her life, she can’t bear the image of Kevin in chains for a crime one of his alters committed.

She loves him far too much for that.  
  


* * *

 

When Casey dreams that night, her mind finds the darkest places of her, the places she doesn’t want to see or acknowledge exist.

_She’s young and they are in the woods, her first hunting trip with her father and uncle. She’s never been more thrilled than to be with both of her favorite people in the whole world. Her father is always showing her something new and her uncle is always making her smile, he makes her laugh so easily._

_He’s so silly and he’s warm like a bear._

_Then things go wrong, get strange. It feels like watching a horror movie as Casey watches herself walk through those autumn trees, all the leaves around her. Blazing golds, yellows, and reds. He’s waiting for her and he wants to play a game._

_She should have run away. She should have known, why hadn’t she known? She’d been too young and innocent of the world to think that bad things didn’t always come in terrifying packages. When he asks her to take her clothes off, she hesitates, because it’s cold and she is embarrassed._

_What follows is much worse and Casey closes her eyes, doesn’t want to see the rest of the memory._

_She was never quite the same after that trip._

_Then her dad died and left her with_ him _._

_It felt like being locked in a closet with a monster from the worst sort of horror movie, knowing that its hungry eyes would be watching you from the dark corners at all times, with no escape, only endurance. Casey is strong, of that she is sure._

_She knows how to endure and adapt._

_She should get an award for fucking_ enduring _._

_She’s fourteen and the abuse has changed over time. She’s become abrasive, a loner, as result. Trust is not a word that she recognizes, it isn’t part of her vocabulary. Every ideal she has ever had has been torn to shreds, gutted and killed._

_Her soul is like a deer, hung on a meat hook, innards spilling to the floor. Sometimes, she wonders what Uncle John would look like, hanging like a broken trophy on that hook._

_When he’s drunk, he makes his way to her room. It isn’t often, but it happens. He’s the eternal bachelor, perhaps never felt comfortable with women his own age. Maybe they never laughed at his jokes, Casey doesn’t like to dwell on the why. She dwells on what is and how she can avoid more pain._

_She hates the smell of cheap vodka on his breath as he leans over her in her bed, smothering her, suffocating her. The feel of his hands pawing at her body drunkenly with no finesse, just rough and bear-like. She says no, tells him she wishes he wouldn’t do this, but he doesn’t listen. He tells her she’s being ridiculous._

_She isn’t strong enough to fight him and when he touches her it hurts, feels like a violation._

_The next day is always the same, he’s sober and acts like he has no recollection of what happened the night before and it drives her mad. How dare he pretend he isn’t ruining her life, ruining the very essence of her._

_Time and suffering change a person. By eighteen, Casey is another animal entirely, savage and wanting nothing to do with the world anymore. Depression and rage have become sunk deep in her bones. The sound of laughter, innocent or mocking, is enough to send her into a fury at school. It’s her last year and she doesn’t give any fucks anymore._

_She is in detention more often than not, prefers the silence and the punishment, because it feels like she deserves it. The loneliness that comes with it is only a bonus. When she’s at home, she even picks fights with John and he doesn’t know what to do about that aside from get angry right back._

_Casey hits him, he hits back. Round and round they go. She hit him with a frying pan once and his fist sent her into a wall. The concussion that follows is an annoyance, but she welcomes the agony._

_She’s taken up cutting. She uses John’s old straight razor. He has no idea what she uses it for. If he knew, he would have hidden every single sharp object in the house, terrified of losing her to this dark spiral he’s sent her into._

_The color of blood is beautiful, violent. Casey likes how it looks against porcelain._

_To be honest, she has the impression in her mind that her blood would be black, because her veins are filled with filth._

_By nineteen she’s found pills. She knows people in low places, from the grapevine. Whether she buys an assortment on the downlow or she goes to a doctor complaining of panic attacks and horrible, mind crushing stress, she finds ways to numb the pain._

_The sense of floating, becoming nothing, it’s an addiction because she hates herself and wants to be stripped down to the bone. Nothing but pale white bone with no soul, no emotions, no pain._

_When she turns twenty, he comes to her room to congratulate her on her new job. His hands on her body, possessive and horrid, make her nearly choke on her own vomit. She keeps her mouth shut, swallows it down, doesn’t let him see what he’s done, what he’s made of her._

_She moves out the next day._

_She can’t keep living this way._

_If this keeps on, she will run the razor over her own throat._

_Watch the blood blood blood blood blood stain the floor until there’s nothing left inside of her._  
  
_Nothing left at all._  
  


* * *

 

The dream, so visceral, tears a sob from her throat as her eyes snap open. Her hair is stuck to her head, lodged against her cold sweat. Casey’s heart pounds madly in her chest, ready to burst out like a monster from an alien movie. She needs it to _stop_. There are tears on her cheeks, she’s been crying in her sleep and she feels like a mess. The room is dark and she feels like a trapped animal, panting against the horror her mind just spun her through.

Casey contemplates taking more pills, but she knows she shouldn’t, doesn’t need to start down that spiraling path. She needs the memories to disappear from her mind, if only for a few moments. She can feel her Uncle’s hands crawling over her flesh and her mind screams for the violation to go away.

The imaginary bruises are phantoms on her body, scars sewn into her flesh. She can’t forget, even though she’s tried so hard.

Without the pills, she is all too aware that her memories did indeed happen to her, not someone that she isn’t. Casey loathes feeling this, abhors the fact that Uncle John can send her desperately running back to all the chemicals she shouldn’t be putting in her body just to find escape.

But. She’s made it so many months without an issue…and she realizes why.

In the darkness of the room, Casey vaguely hears the deep, slow breathing of Kevin beside her. His warm body is only a few inches from her own, clad only in his boxers under her sheets. She looks at his body and considers that for a moment, he would give her an escape. A pleasurable one. He would give her control without complaint.

Kevin always gives her control, allowing her to put her spiraling mind to ease knowing that _she_ is the one calling the shots, not someone else.

With her heart already pounding madly in her chest, she rolls over, swinging a leg over his hip. She rests her body on his carefully and presses a desperate kiss to his lips, tasting the salt of her tears on her own tongue. He comes to easily enough, his hands coming up to her sides, eyes open half-mast.

She needs the distraction. Anything to empty her mind of blood and razor blades.

He doesn’t question her forwardness, the desperate clutch of her hands on either side of his face. Kevin takes it in stride, pulling her body more firmly against his. Casey chokes down a sob of relief, thrilled that she can hide in this moment, physically being something other than her nightmares.

She needs him to take her mind elsewhere. She wants to be buried in him and nothing else, wants to feel anything but what she feels now.

Her stomach is sick with the dreams in her head, her chest aching under the strain of her heart pounding madly with stress. Casey isn’t right, she’s not well, but she can hide from this, turn it into something else if only for a few moments.

She wants to erase John’s touch in the way that scalding hot water and razor blades never could. She wants to replace his hands with someone else’s.

Casey sits back and takes her tank top off, sits forward slightly to take off her bottoms. She’s more than ready to blot this all out, because this is Kevin and she loves the way he makes her feel. That’s all she wants to know, all she wants to remember of this night.

If he is shocked by all of this, he makes no comment. Kevin already knew something was wrong when he came over earlier, it was written all over his questioning gaze, his worried glances. Casey leans back down, her naked body against his bare chest and boxers. She presses her mouth to his once more and he shoves his tongue against hers, hungry, tasting her.

She wonders if she tastes like sorrow and tragedy.

They strain against each other, panting roughly, his hands running down her body, firm and strong. With his hands on her hips, Kevin hoists her up and flips them over, moving his body on top of hers in a fluid motion. The movement is rough, possessive, his erection hard against her center. She grinds up against him, digs her fingers into his shoulder blades. Digs her nails into his skin. With a groan far deeper than any she has heard from him before, he slides his tongue down between her breasts, burning a path straight down her stomach to her core. With his head between her legs, his strong grip on her thighs, Casey comes to a distant realization.

Though she can’t see the expression on his face, can’t see the blue of his eyes in the dark, she _knows_. The man with his tongue now deep in her folds, consuming her with a hunger she hasn’t quite experienced before, _is not Kevin_.

This knowledge has her frozen, her heart twisting into bits, jarring her momentarily from her purpose.

Just as she is contemplating fleeing the bed, fleeing the man who wears the same flesh as Kevin, his hands move to her rear, gripping and pulling her to his face as his tongue goes flat and hard against her bundle of nerves.

“Oh, _shi_ …” she chokes on her moan, hating herself, hating how he makes her feel.

This is not what she is looking for, but her body thinks it is and she can’t stop it.

 _Liar. You don’t want to stop it,_ Casey thinks hazily.

He growls against her sensitive flesh, needy and desperate. Once again, his voice is that deep, dark rumble that drives her mad in the most normal of circumstances. She can’t pretend that this is anyone other than Dennis, it would be a joke to even try.

It’s like fire is eating her lower half, wetness drenching her embarrassingly. She will never be able to listen to him speak again without thinking of this moment.

Thinking of him between her legs, worshipping her center like it’s the only thing he cares about.

Casey is torn between feeling betrayed in the worst of ways and feeling like the betrayer herself. Kevin _knows_ she can’t abide Dennis. He _knows_ how Dennis treats her and yet here he is, in bed with her on a night when she shouldn’t be anywhere near him.

It’s like a hornet’s nest waiting to be kicked and Casey has just hit the nest with a damn baseball bat.

Covering her eyes with her arm, Casey presses against that seeking tongue, gritting her teeth against the way he spells his name against her clit, his fingers digging hard into her hips and rear. God, she thinks it’s going to bruise, but she’s well aware that Dennis isn’t nice. She doesn’t even _like_ him.

…and right now she doesn’t care.

_Razor blades and white porcelain...._

She cries out when he thrusts his tongue inside of her, tasting her heat and desire, she can’t hide what her body is feeling, not from him.

Feeling overwhelmed and out of control, Casey twists her hips violently, trying to dislodge his grip on her. She doesn’t want him playing around down there; it feels too intimate and she doesn’t like feeling this vulnerable. He seems to get the idea of what she’s about, because he crawls back up her body so that they are nearly face to face.

Casey can smell her arousal on his lips and her heart flips, her stomach dropping. She doesn't meet his eyes, but she knows they must be dark as a storm. 

He attacks her neck with bites and licks, sucking hard at the spot underneath her ear. He’s so aggressive that it almost hurts, his possessive marking of her flesh. She can’t possibly think of anything other than his lips and teeth until she feels the heat against him at her entrance.

She freezes, her mind logically screaming at her to stop this, don’t do this to Kevin. Dennis pauses with his teeth against her sensitive throat, sensing a change in her. She can feel the heat of his breath against her skin.

The tip of him slides against her slowly, seeking as he waits for her reaction. “Are you ready for this?” He drawls against her neck, his precise tone making her swoon and scowl all at once.

Now, there really is no pretending.

 _Don’t fucking act like Kevin, asshole,_ she thinks furiously as she jerks her hips up, taking him into her hard. This is her idea, dammit. Not his.

They both gasp, Dennis groaning into her movement. He meets her hips hard, grinding her down into the sheets, pulling one of her legs up around his waist. The angle changes and he circles his hips into hers, allowing her to feel his girth and savor it.

Then, the sudden forward snap of his hips has Casey yelping in surprise at the sudden change. He grabs one of her hands and presses it against the place where they are joined. “Touch yourself,” he growls in her ear, pulling out then thrusting in once more.

Casey hesitates, embarrassed, but he uses his own hand to help her, pressing her delicate fingers against her clit. Waves of pleasure start rolling through Casey at the action and soon her embarrassment melts away, leaving her touching herself the way she likes without his help. She swats his hand away from her own after a few moments, not needing him to control this.

He sits back from her a bit, changing his angle again and Casey sees stars. She hates this man so much, at least he’s too awkward to be prideful about it. Dennis continues working the same angle, watching her face intently even as she tries to avoid his gaze.

Dennis is staring at her lips and she knows he wants nothing else than to shove his tongue down her throat until she chokes. For some ridiculous reason, her traitorous body spasms at the thought and she cries out as she clenches around him, her orgasm taking her by utter surprise.

Naturally, her body relaxes a little further after release, but Casey is shocked when he pulls out and hoists her onto her hand and knees.

 _Ah, we’re not…we’re not done?_ Casey’s hazy on the details of this engagement, how many positions are required for this to work?

Then, he slides right back in and Casey nearly dies at the new feeling this angle gives. She feels like he’s in her stomach, like he’s plowing straight through her. She’s never felt this full before and she flushes, embarrassed because he’s not moving, just holding her hips with his cock in her.

Is he…is he looking at her? What...

“What are you doing back there…” Casey mutters in disbelief, not expecting an answer before pressing her face into the mattress with a groan.

Almost unnoticeably, he makes a sound in his throat. Smugness or assholery, Casey can’t be sure, but shortly after he drapes his body over hers, wrapping one arm around her stomach and using the other to brace himself on the bed.

If Casey turns her head just so, she can see the veins standing out on his forearms.

It takes some time for her to adjust to this position, it feels too deep and too full for her tastes, but just as she's about to voice her displeasure, Dennis places his own fingers at her front and plays in a simple rhythm, allowing her arousal to build up once more. Heat builds in her stomach, feeling dirty and wild in this animalistic position with an alter she simply _can’t_ stand.

The sound of their flesh coming together is embarrassing and erotic all at once, Casey listening to the slide of their skin where they connect. In her mind, she focuses on a mental image of the shape of him, the way he strokes her sensitive walls, stretches her, makes her his. She trembles, her breath coming in short pants as his rough thrusts force them out of her. Casey couldn’t be silent even if she wanted to be.

Her muscles are on fire, shaking, the physical exertion is not something she is used to. Dennis shifts his hip angle again and strikes something inside of Casey that has her vision go black for a moment. “Do that again,” she demands, because she needs some control dammit.

He does as she commands without comment, obedient.

Within moments, Casey tenses and flutters around him, crying out her pleasure wordlessly, a moment of no thought or care in the world.

Peace as she knows it.

With a growl, more animalistic than man, he slams home one last time, her name on his lips as he reaches his climax. They fall forward onto the sheets, Casey landing fully on her stomach. She exhales softly, eyes fluttering shut, ready to fall into the simple oblivion of sleep, but he’s still hard.

 _I literally wanted one round to get my mind in order, not a damn marathon_ , she thinks without amusement. This was not the plan. Dennis was not the fucking plan.

He sits back, pulling her into his lap so that they are face to face. This distinctly makes Casey uncomfortable _and what sort of stamina does this man have?_ She averts her gaze and lets her eyes flutter shut, resting her face on his familiar freckled shoulder, allowing him to slowly rock their hips together.

“Look at me,” he murmurs into her mane of hair.

“Don’t be greedy,” Casey murmurs into his skin, allowing her mind to drift, flowing with the feeling of simply being connected to someone else.

Never you mind that the ‘someone else’ is Dennis. This is calmer, less wild. Casey can get on board with this. But. She’s not looking at him. That’s for Kevin.

Her body is tired, but he’s going painfully slow, barely moving his hips at all and it is as maddening as it is comforting. Every small movement sends waves up pleasure up and down her spine, a warm, slow burn in her stomach. Casey is along for the ride and she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders and tries to not think of Kevin.

Tries to not compare the two. That would be wrong, wouldn’t it?

When they reach their peak together, Casey sinks into his lap bonelessly, letting him hold her hips down on his pelvis as his hips grind upward into hers. He swells inside of her and he lets a masculine groan of pleasure out right in her ear.

As much as Casey’s enjoyed this diversion, her body is exhausted and she isn’t sure she can handle another round. She’s not sure how much more Dennis she can handle and as her mind starts coming back to earth, she feels her own guilt building in her heart.

This isn’t Kevin, it’s his body, but he isn’t here. He’s not here with her and she just chose to share herself with a very different person, despite the body itself.

This time, he lays her back against the pillows, still connected at the hip. One of his hands is holding the headboard as he looks down at her, his chest heaving as he looms above her like some sort of villain.

And that’s it, that’s the reality of it all staring straight down at her.

Casey closes her eyes tight, feeling tears escaping the corners. She focuses on the wet trails streaming down her temples, anything to not feel the way his eyes are surely burning holes into her face as he stares down at her. Casey can feel him breathing above her, panting like an animal. She can almost picture his scowl and intense eyes stripping her bare, finding fault in her somehow.

After a few moments, the heat of his body is torn away from her as he leaves the bed, his footsteps leading him away. The bathroom door shuts with a bang and the water in the shower turns on. Casey stifles a sob, now covering her eyes with her hands.

Why does she get herself into these situations?

It stings, knowing he finds her so filthy and disgusting that he needs to wash her off his skin. He’s washing her off in the bathroom he finds so subpar and Casey hates him for it. It should be her in there, scrubbing _him_ away.

Scrubbing her sins away.

When he’s done in the shower, he doesn’t come back to bed, instead going to the couch in the next room.

It takes Casey another hour before she can finally sleep, her ears straining for the sound of his deep breathing in the next room. His skin so close, yet so far, the scent of him all over her room.

A reminder of the crime she just committed against Kevin, knowingly and willingly.  
  


* * *

 

When she wakes up the next morning, he is gone. Off to work as usual, early in the wee hours of morning before she gets up.

This morning though, she can smell his scent all around her, in her sheets, on her _skin_. She feels like a traitor and she can’t quash the feeling, even though she feels betrayed all at the same time. With a choking sob, she stumbles into the bathroom. She stumbles into the shower and washes, frowning dejectedly down at the drain. The hot water scalds her and she doesn’t care. She only leaves the spray when the water finally goes cold.

The long mirror on the wall shows her body in the light and Casey gasps. Her hips have finger shaped bruises, her neck littered with bites. For a moment she can’t breathe, she’s a brief vision of what has happened to her in the past, the suffering she has born the brunt of for years against her will. Only this time, she instigated this. A whine escapes her throat when she thinks of Kevin and what he will think, looking at her body.

Oh lord, he’s going to think she _cheated_ on him for real this time. Maybe she did. She’s not sure how these things work. What is the etiquette for sleeping with your boyfriend’s alter? Is that cheating? Is it not? Kevin was already jealous, a little vulnerable about the situation.

There is no denying that she knew exactly who she was dealing with last night. She had the option to say no and she didn’t. This…this would hurt Kevin more than Casey can bear to think of. She’s undeserving and perhaps Patricia is right; Casey is only poison that will only lead to more pain for Kevin. She’s not helping him get better, she’s the tool that keeps him spiraling out of control between his alters.

How can this event not be proof of that? Once Dennis takes control, there is no switching him off, no asking for Kevin to come back and take over.

She’s disgusting and she can’t imagine how he would ever be able to look at her the same ever again. Casey doesn’t go to work again for the second day in a row. Instead, she finds herself beating herself up over the night before and how poorly she treated Kevin, especially when all he wanted to do was help her with her hidden issues.

Issues that have simply exploded into reality; Casey is going to have to deal with John again, sooner or later. All the horrible, depressing emotions that used to course through her daily have re-surfaced with strength.

Her thoughts turn to rage again, because rage is constantly simmering under the surface of her skin at this point. She thinks of Dennis, how it wasn’t supposed to happen that way. He isn’t supposed to play around in Kevin's place, it's against the rules. It's like another betrayal and Casey can’t help but blame herself.

She had worried Kevin all night and refused to talk to him about her issues. Some time, in those sleeping hours, his sleeping mind had shifted to Dennis, either out of necessity for work the next morning or because he was worried for her. She can’t be sure, but he wasn’t supposed to…do what he did.

Her body is an aching mess, a constant reminder of what they did. She’s disgusting because some part of her knew instantly that it wasn’t Kevin, those rough touches weren’t him. She sat there and let it happen, she didn’t even say no. She didn’t want to say no.

She knew it was fucking Dennis and she decided to play stupid, let him play as rough as he wanted because she felt that was what she _deserved_.

She wanted what she knew he had. She knew exactly how he would make her feel.

Casey felt, with every inch of her body and soul, that she deserved misery.

This is a walking betrayal to Kevin and herself. She had done this, had allowed this to happen, and the way her mind is spiraling out of control she can’t be good for him. He needs stability and she is anything but.

Casey is a mess. A broken mess.

The choice and conclusion that she comes to is not easy, but it is what is best for Kevin.  
  
Patricia's right; Casey will only bring him more misery.

 

* * *

 

Driving her ill-gained car over to his place that night, Casey knocks on his door, hoping that Kevin is in the light for the time being. She has no desire to see anyone else, afraid she will lose her nerve, that she won’t be able to commit to this.

When the door opens and she meets his soft, sky blue eyes, her heart breaks into little agonizing pieces.

She hates herself and hates that he loves her so much.

“Hey…I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Thought you had some things to sort through today,” he says, gesturing for her to step in.

“I…ah…yeah. I did have some things I needed to do.” The words feel like ash in her mouth.

Kevin kisses her, his arms around her waist. Something other than her heart breaks, maybe her willpower, but Casey finds herself crying into his lips. What she has to do, there are no words for the agony she’s feeling.

He pulls back to look at her, confused and concerned. “What is going on, Casey? I feel like I’ve been dealing with another person the past few days. Why are you crying?”

Pulling her scarf off, Casey shows him her neck, the dark purpling marks. She pulls the clothing up around her waist, exposing the obvious finger marks marring her pale skin. “Do you recall last night, Kevin?”

The expression on his face looks like he’s been struck by a train. “I…I…please tell me I didn’t do that to you. I don’t…don’t remember…”

Casey wipes at her eyes, placing the scarf back around her neck. “You did. Dennis did. There really is no difference who did it, because it happened.”

There is a thud as he slouches back against a wall, staring at her like he’s never seen her before. “How can you say there is no difference? I would _never_ treat you like that!”

“I know you wouldn’t and I know it was him,” Casey whispers, dropping the bomb.

Every word out of her mouth feels like pulling fingernails off her own fingers.

“What are you saying? That you wanted this to happen?” The emotions that play out on his face are killing Casey inside.

“I didn’t want to feel loved, Kevin. I wanted to hurt worse than I’ve been hurting for the past few days. I’m not coping; I may seem strong but I am struggling so hard, Kevin. That justifies nothing, but I need you to know that…I’m the problem.”

He scowls furiously at her. “What crap are you even saying? You don’t deserve to be treated badly and you certainly are not bad for me; all I want is to help you the way you have been helping me with my issues. You've been pushing me away on purpose, Casey. I don't understand why.”

“We can’t do this anymore. It isn’t healthy. I’m not healthy for you, Kevin. You can’t tell me with a straight face that you have a strong grip on all of your alters!”

He kneels in front of her, pressing his face to her stomach. “What are you saying? Casey…please don’t do this. _What happened to you_ _two night ago to cause all of this_?”

Her heart is ripping in two and for a moment she doesn’t think she has the strength to go through with this. “I’m a mess and I throw you and all of your alters into chaos with my problems. I don’t want to be the issue in your life anymore.”

“You aren’t an issue! I love you-”

Casey’s eyes burn with tears. She can play a darker game than this, she knows how to play dirty and unfair. She needs him to let go of her so she can keep him safe. “I trusted you. I thought you had a handle on Dennis. I was wrong. And now look what you’ve both done to me. And I let you…because I’m sick in the head.”

Stepping away from him, she goes to the door, goes to leave when she hears the telltale crack of Kevin’s neck. She looks over her shoulder and sees Dennis glaring at her furiously, though she knows he can’t see her very well without his glasses.

“That was cruel of you,” he growls at her. “You knew it was me last night and now you’re standing here, shoving it in his face. Acting like it was rape.”

It’s an ugly word and Casey flinches. “I’m not low enough to accuse you of that. I’m well acquainted with that word to know the difference. I knew it was you and I didn’t ask you to stop.”

She doesn’t mention that she didn’t know if he would have stopped even if she had asked.

“Why are you doing this to us?” His deep voice cracks slightly, betraying an emotion other than anger.

Casey unlocks the front door, buttons up her coat. “I’m not a good person. I’ve been busy lying to myself that I’m not a sinking pit of doom waiting to happen and Kevin has been suffering for it. He can’t handle what is coming. I have to move on alone in order to keep him safe.”

Dennis kicks a chair out of his way as he storms towards her, chest heaving. “It’s not your job to keep him safe; it’s mine. This isn’t over until I say it is.”

Ah. The boyfriend that can’t let go. Casey isn’t shocked. _This isn’t over, I didn’t tell you it was over, blah blah blah…._

 Glaring through her tears, Casey hauls open the front door and says, “You can’t stop me from leaving. I’m doing this for Kevin. Even you have to respect that.”

“You’re a coward,” Dennis sneers. “You’re doing this for yourself.”

She sees the shift in his face and knows that he has no intention of letting her walk out the door so she bolts, fast as lighting. She hears him slam into something, his sight unclear, but soon enough she can hear his boots thundering behind her as she runs down the stairs.

The elevator would have taken too long.

It doesn’t take long for Dennis to catch her, he’s strong and fast. He catches her arm and Casey yanks hard, trying to get out of his grasp. She ends up stumbling at the force of her movement and crashes onto one of the steps. Dennis leans down, trying to grab her, but Casey flails wildly, kicking out hard.

“I will drag you back in there, up these fucking stairs if I have to,” he grunts, struggling with her limbs as she kicks at him.

Then his face goes slack for a moment and Casey sees Patricia take control. She looks pained though, most likely fighting for control. “Little dove. I can only hold him back for so long. You need to leave. He will drag you back upstairs and it won’t be pleasant.” Patricia fishes in her pocket and looks at a key set, wiggling one of the keys off, handing it to Casey. “Take this, if you really don’t want us back. I applaud you for giving up this foolishness with Kevin. He really is better off without you.”

Those words are like a kick in the stomach and Casey is sure that Patricia wanted that effect.

The sight of Casey’s house key makes Casey’s stomach flip over and shrivel slightly. It seems so final, like the end of something huge, seeing the key in Patricia’s hand. Once she takes that key, she won’t see Kevin ever again.

It will be over, he can go back to living his life in peace. Casey can go back to figuring out how to survive every day now that Uncle John is on the move.

“Well, take it, little love. I can't keep Dennis under control forever,” Patricia snaps.

With a violent twitch, Barry comes to life, sorrow bleeding into those blue eyes, replacing Patricia’s serene gaze. He sees the keys in his hands and quickly shoves them back in his pocket. “Baby gurl, what are ya doin’? Come on now, let’s talk this through, we don’t want ya to leave, we’ll do anything-”

Another choked cry warbles in Casey’s throat as her heart leaps. “Stop it, Barry, that’s not fair.” God almighty, she loves this ridiculous, crazy man.

Another twitch, a painful looking one, occurs again. Cold intelligence is once more in his gaze as Patricia huffs with irritation. “No more interruptions, I hope, my dove. They’re not rational, not like you and I, my sweet. Take the keys. Go home. All will be well soon, you will see.”  

With fat tears rolling down Casey’s face, she takes the key and stands up, crying horribly in front of the female alter. Ridiculous. She just wants to hug Barry and listen to him chatter on about the state of his wardrobe. She wants to hear Hedwig complain about her being boring and lame.

All of these thoughts and wishes pull her in a thousand directions, but she must stay the course. With John able to crawl back into her life now, no one around her will be safe. Kevin needs to be kept safe.

Patricia’s face softens slightly. “Whatever you may think of me, I am sorry it had to end this way. But we knew this day would come. This isn’t a fairy tale. I need to keep Kevin safe and you…you bring so much pain.”

Wiping her tears away, Casey sniffles. “I made him happy too though, didn’t I?”

Patricia runs a hand down Casey’s cheek. “Yes, little dove. You made him so happy.” Her cheek twitches roughly. “Go now, little dear. Dennis isn’t willing to let go of you without a fight. Go. I will try to calm him and Kevin down. Both are a bit inconsolable. What a mess you’ve made.”

Casey bursts into tears again. She didn’t want Kevin to feel pain on her behalf and the idea of him grieving her is too painful to bear.

She turns and runs down the rest of the stairs. She runs to her car, the cold biting her face and her tears.

She’s alone. She’s used to being alone. This is what she wanted, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Kevin will get over her, he will be safe. He will heal. He won’t have to deal with her mood swings, her random depression, her anger, her self-loathing. The danger of Uncle John around every corner.

Maybe he can find another girl, one who doesn’t have a fucked-up family history. Maybe another nice girl will accept all of his alters.

The idea of Kevin with anyone else kills her and secretly she hopes he never finds another woman.

 _I really am a horrible person,_ Casey thinks, hating herself even more.

She wants to tear her own heart out and dance in her entrails, anything to empty herself of the pain she feels inside. 

* * *

  
_I keep running back to you_  
_Oh, I told myself I was through_  
_With everything you make me do_  
_But, I can not let you go, no_  
_I keep running back to you_  
_Oh, feeling like I can't break through_  
_I think about what I could lose_  
_But I can not let you go, no_  
_I just can't let you go_

"Back to You" – Fame on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, so sorry about that. 
> 
> Comments, kudos, tears, agonized wailing, whatever works for you at this point <3 
> 
> I will send hugs, I swear.


	7. Interlude of Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or Split. All belong to M. Night Shyamalan.
> 
> AN: Hey everyone, I'm back. Super sorry about the long delay, but like I said, I've taken on a huge territory at work and it has been draining me HARD. I'm hoping things will begin to slow down soon. Then I also got the flu so there is that. 
> 
> BUT HAYYY. That last chapter. Was that not absolutely criminal of me to write that the week of Valentine's Day? Haha. Brutal, I swear I'm not a sadist. 
> 
> Anywho, the end is not here yet....but we are close. I thought this chapter would be the end but Dennis wanted his say and he took up too much time.

As he wakes, he blinks the remnants of his dreams away, reaches for the place that she would be, frowns when he finds it empty. His eyes open slowly and his brain slowly connects with the fact that her side of the bed is vacant, but he can still imagine the way she smells.

_Like sunshine, vanilla, and torment all rolled into one, skin as smooth as cream, the heat inside of her warm and tight…_

Dennis inhales and rolls onto his back. Grits his teeth against the ache in his chest, because she’s gone, she’s not next to him like she is almost every morning. Every morning, he gets up for work, before the sun rises in the sky, sees her curled up next to him, completely trusting that she’s safe with him.

No, not him. Kevin.

_Dennis is the responsible one, the one who makes sure things get done and that they get done_ right. _He’s always been the one to wake up early every morning, get them all ready for another day of work. He’s always on time. He’s diligent. He pays attention to detail. Barry is rarely on time, which is trouble for all of Kevin. Barry spends too much time primping in the mirror and putting together his clothes for the day when he really should just_ go _to_ work _._

_This is how it has been for years without change._

_Then Kevin just has to go and find this waif of a girl, bring her home like some stray dog that he hopes will give him unconditional love. Barry adores her instantly, playing along with Kevin to keep all of the alters under control, trying to make sure no slips happened in front of her._

_They want to keep her, they think she’ll run if she knows the truth of Kevin._

_“Behave. I’m serious. She’s a sweet gurl,” Barry tells Dennis the first night that it becomes clear that the waif is staying over in their bed._

_Dennis thinks it’s fucking funny that Barry has finally decided to admonish him about this, considering no one thought to consult Dennis about this new development in the first place. Now that she’s coming to stay over, there is only one person she is 99% of the time going to be next to in the morning._

_Dennis. Because Barry hits the sleep button too many times._

_This is a problem. Because Dennis has urges. He can’t afford distractions like these._

_“Is this going to become a thing?” He asks, irritated._

_“Just don’t...do…anythin’.”_

_The first time he wakes up next to her is jarring. He’s used to being alone, enjoys his space, his glorious solitude that allows him to wallow in his own faults and short-comings. He’s never spoken to her, never met her, has no intention of interacting with her. Girls, they only bring trouble for him._

_He’s only interested in what’s between their legs._

_With that scathing, loathsome thought, Dennis rolls out of the bed as quick as he can without really looking at her. That’s a whole lot of trouble he doesn’t need and Miss Patricia would never let it go. Barry would just use it as another strike against him._

_The first time they actually meet face to face, he can tell that he scares her. He’s intense, he knows, but she has these soft, dark eyes that look at him with apprehension and he likes how she stares up at him. That first time, he’d tried not to notice her legs, her body in her tight work clothes. He knows she’s late, because Kevin had expected her quite some time ago._

_Dennis had taken over, distracted by the mess. She’s so fucking disorderly, what is he supposed to do about that? Ignore it? He can’t. That’s not how Dennis operates._

_All he can think about is how she’s dressed and the effect it is having on him. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like how his body is instantly begging him to grab her, strip her down on the kitchen floor that he previously spent twenty minutes washing._

_…have his way with her, pin her hands above her head while he thrusts into her while she gasps into his mouth, small, desperate sounds…_

_Don’t lose the plot, Dennis._

_Where was she, all this time, he had wondered suspiciously. This damn fucking waif and her sad fucking doe eyes. Not that he really cares, but she’s Kevin’s and he won’t let it stand for her to give him the run around._

_He insults her and he means to. That doesn’t go well. Dennis didn’t expect it to, but she needed to see who was in control; not her._

_She belongs to him. Kevin’s body. So, she’s also Dennis’s even if she isn’t aware._

_Time continues on in this same fashion, except it becomes a new routine to wake up to her sleeping form every morning. Eventually, it isn’t so jarring, so horrible. Eventually, Dennis let’s himself sit up in bed and look at her as she sleeps, memorizing the lines of her face, the way she looks with her hair strewn across his pillows._

_…don’t touch her don’t touch her…_

_She’s like an angel that accidently fell into his hell and all he wants is to flay her with his tongue, up and down every inch of her body. His sheets smell of her all the time now, so he’s never without her on his mind, even when she isn’t there. He wants to press his face between her legs, inhale her scent, taste her, eat her until she slowly wakes up to his tongue deep in her heat, drink her arousal for hours..._

_He hates it. She shouldn’t occupy this much space in his mind._

_After the dancing incidents, he finds himself trying to keep his mind on track at work, throws himself into different projects just to try and keep his thoughts straight. He wants to sit on the edge of the bed, watch her strip her clothes off for him, for_ him _, not Kevin. She’ll be red and embarrassed, nervous in front of him. She doesn’t know it, but he’ll take care of her. He’ll look at her perky breasts and ass as she moves her hips in that slow, shy way, that way that makes him think of her sitting on his-_

_He shouldn’t fantasize. He gets too distracted._

_He can’t help it though. He saw that night and the ones that followed. How Kevin had sweetly made love to her, slow and gentle as she sighed and gasped against his lips. He wants to be in Kevin’s place so bad, his head spins. He wants to mark her body, visible representation of who she is owned by, so she can feel him even when he’s not touching her, wants to be so deep in her that she can’t think of anything other than him…_

_He's so painfully jealous that it's almost humiliating._

_They begin to spend more time together and Dennis tries his best to behave, wonders why he doesn’t see her the same way he used to. She may not be perfect, she’s annoying and doesn’t take his shit, but she’s his. Dennis likes the way she feels in his arms, when she’s perched in his lap watching tv, or the time she sat on him of her own free will while he was reading. He’d been so surprised, he had almost dropped the book._

_He's instantly hard at the contact and he hopes it doesn't scare her away._

_She didn’t make a big deal out of it though. She just sat down, curled up on him like she had belonged there all along. He could tell she was nervous, the way she ducked her head under his chin so he couldn’t see her face, her frame so small and fragile against him. He’d nearly died, so hungry for her to touch him because she wanted to, while she knew it was him and not someone else._

_All he wants is to pin her down and make her his completely, taste her, devour her from the inside out until she’s begging him-_

_Ugh. Stop. He tries to stop his thoughts from going south, but he can’t seem to stop at this rate._

_He keeps thinking of that fateful night and the way she wrapped around him, desperate. Her pain is like a sheet of flesh, spread over him, so tangible that he can touch it with his tongue. Dennis’s mind dwells on how she would never meet his gaze, her beautiful doe eyes elusive to him even as she came around his cock._

_The kicker is, he knows that she knows it’s him. Not Kevin. Kevin, who she loves to go to for all of her emotional needs and fulfillment. No, she knows it’s Dennis, who she apparently wants to use for a good fuck and nothing else._

_So, he fucks her until he’s sure she’s going to be sore with the memory of him between her thighs, behind her, and under her._

_He wishes he could keep her in this bed with him forever. God, he’d never leave her, he wants her so bad. Now that he’s had her, he wants her even more, so thirsty like he can never be satisfied._

_She cries when they are done. She tries to hide it from him, but he sees, those tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. She was terrified of him, is terrified of him. Dennis was so confused in that moment staring down at her,_ what _did she want from him? Hadn’t he given her exactly what she wanted when she mounted his hips? She wanted what he had to offer and she’d used him, so what was with the tears?_

_Did he mistake her intentions? Hadn’t she wanted him, the way she ran her nails down his back, the sounds that she made for him as she moved her hips against his? All the ways she arched her body against him, hungry for the way he could make her body feel?_

_He senses something missing here, something that’s always there when she’s with Kevin and jealousy coils in his belly as he stares down at her._

_He can’t keep up with her, one moment she is hot and then the next cold, pushing him away with her closed off attitude. He doesn’t understand, he’d misunderstood her cues somehow, and now she’s gone._

And now she’s gone.

Dennis growls in frustration. He’s got work. He should go. He’s not a late piece of shit like Barry.

Dennis is _responsible_.  
  


* * *

 

In the wake of the ‘event’, Barry spends his time designing on his sketchpad, drawing models that look suspiciously like Casey. Dennis burns them with a lighter over the sink. The next time Barry has the light, he pounds two bottles of cabernet, draws Casey some more, profiles, imagined nudes, spreads them all over Dennis’s clothing drawer with duct tape.

When Dennis comes to the next morning, his head is pounding, splitting in two from the purposeful overindulgence of red wine. He sneers at the drawings left all over his clothing drawer. The message could not be clearer; Barry blames him for all of this.

Hedwig has also taken to drawing Casey on sheets of printer paper, terrible drawings, but it’s pretty clear that he meant to draw her. The boy misses his best friend and Dennis is no substitute because he can’t dance like her. Et cetera.

The only person happy about all of this appears to be Patricia, who to all appearances is thrilled. _Thrilled!_

Kevin, when in the light, spends most of him time standing in the shower under the hot spray, silent, face covered in his hands. When he leaves the shower, he lays on his bed and thinks of what he did wrong and wonders how he can possibly forget about the best thing in his life.

How could he have let her go? Why didn’t he fight harder? It’s agony without her, wondering who she’s with, why she left, because he knows her reasons were mostly lies. She was the reason he felt strong enough to keep living day to day, knowing she was the light at the end of his tunnel.

What if he isn’t anything without her?

Kevin sees Casey in every moment of his day, sees her in the clothes she left behind, her shampoo in his bathroom. The ache in his chest feels like a weight, pulling him down to the very bottom of the sea, where there is no light and no warmth.

Nothing. The absence of everything. He can barely breathe, he’s suffocating.

He wants to curl in on himself and fade to black, all of him, even the alters. He wants to disappear as if he never existed, take all of his scars and his shame and simply cease to be. He wants to put a bullet through his head, because it’s violent and raw, because that’s how his life always has been.

But he won’t because he’s a coward. The moment the thought crosses his mind, Dennis snorts at him from his chair, mocking. Dennis, out of all of them, knows who has the real courage in Kevin’s body. Kevin’s noticed this change in Dennis, can feel this resentment floating in the back of his mind. It has never been there before, but Kevin has felt it growing in the past few months, getting stronger and stronger until it’s become a physical touch in the back of Kevin’s consciousness.

If he didn’t know better, he would think Dennis is jealous of him. The idea is stupid, but deep down Kevin feels the same way.

It’s sick and fucking stupid and clearly it bled into reality. Casey had sensed it clear as day.

She was his everything. She understood him, loved him despite his oddities and his weaknesses. Casey was strong enough to stand through it all beside him. It’s killing him inside, wondering what had turned her sour so fast. He never even saw it coming.

Should he have seen it? What did he miss? What did he _do_?

She tore herself away, quick as a snake, shut herself off from him. She had erected an emotional wall with little effort and it has left him reeling. Kevin keeps checking his phone, hoping and praying that he will get a call from her or a text.

He doesn’t dare reach out to her…she wouldn’t want that, would she? Doesn’t want him begging her to come back and make it all right again?

The days pass in a blur; he barely has the desire to leave the house. Barely has the desire to take care of himself, but the others make sure he keeps going. Barry’s consciousness sorrowfully tags along with Kevin during his waking hours and he truly doesn’t mind. They both don’t want to be alone with their misery, so blatant and raw.

The worst is Hedwig, who doesn’t quite understand what has happened. It breaks his heart to hear the little boy asking when she’s going to come back, not quite getting the fact that she chose to leave them. Patricia keeps trying to tell them all that everything is going to be fine, that this emotional pain with eventually fade.

_Everything will be fine in the end, you will see,_ she always intones with the soft way of hers.

Kevin wants to believe her, but he can’t. His mind isn’t cooperating and neither is his broken heart. When he stands in the shower and lets the heat scald him, like a punishment, he allows himself to imagine Casey standing beside him, giggling with embarrassment as he watches her shampoo her hair.

_What are you staring at?_ She would always say that when he caught her in the shower, flushing red under his gaze. In his memory, he can see the water streaming down her skin, rivulets that he wants to kiss away.

Distantly, he can feel Dennis shift in his chair, viewing the memory the begrudging interest. Kevin changes his thoughts because he doesn’t feel like letting Dennis be a voyeur to his private moments with Casey.

Doesn’t feel like sharing with the alter who doesn’t share her with him.

When Dennis has the light, Kevin has no picture of what Dennis is doing or seeing and it seems hardly fair, knowing how they both interact with the same woman. A sliver of irritation slides through Kevin at his protective alter; how is it fair that Dennis can view glimpses of life through Kevin but when Dennis is in control, Kevin gets nothing but sleep?

_You two are gross, spying on poor girls in the shower,_ Jade mutters from her seat. _Why don’t you just go after her if you want her back so bad?_

Kevin wishes he were that brave, but he’s terrified that Casey finally views him for what he is; a monster.  
  


* * *

 

“This is nuts. We can’t keep going on like this,” Jade mutters one night, typing out the email on their phone.

It’s midnight and she can’t fucking stand another night of Barry and Dennis moping in their equally dramatic fashions. Dennis is the fucking _worst_ of the duo _,_ he’s all _mine mine mine, she is fucking mine, how could she do this to me,_ and frankly, Jade is sick of hearing it!

“You can’t just own a girl, Dennis. We’ve got rights,” Jade hisses aloud, finishing her email to Dr. Fletcher.

Kevin is unusually quiet and Jade is worried for him. He’s retreated deeper into his psyche in the wake of the break up and that leaves everyone with Barry and Dennis for company. The times that Kevin is in control, he barely leaves his room, all the shades drawn. Sitting in the dark with his misery. Jade wants to comfort him, but he’s so broken and lost without Casey.

Patricia keeps trying to be all high and mighty, telling everyone she knew this would happen, _see what happens when you let outsiders in_? Jade thinks Patricia made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, the way she acted towards Casey. Patricia acted like a straight up old battle-axe towards the poor girl.

Barry and Dennis are a sideshow annoyance and Jade wants to throw them both out a window before this ship goes sideways.

Dr. Fletcher will straighten this shit out.

***

Jade keeps the light, though it is a struggle, for the next few hours. She is more than determined to make sure Kevin’s body gets to Dr. Fletcher’s office.

The older woman is surprised to see her when she finally arrives. “Jade? We haven’t talked in some time. Your email was rather worrying.”

“Damn straight it’s worrying, Dr. Fletcher! You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with,” Jade snaps, throwing herself onto the couch with energy.

“I imagine you have come to tell me, hm?”

Jade sighs dramatically. “Look, believe me, it’s a motherfuc- a tragedy. Okay. I liked the girl, she was sweet, sensitive. She had her own issues, but she seemed like she was good for Kevin.”

“Was?” Dr. Fletcher asks with a tone of concern.

Jade gestures vaguely. “Casey broke up with us. Well, Kevin first, which became Dennis, which became Patricia, which became Barry-.”

Dr. Fletcher sits across from Jade in her usual perch, wrapping a shawl around herself tightly. It’s early morning, a time that the doctor reserves for emergencies. She hasn’t really had time to do her hair yet and the woman does indeed look tired. “Is Kevin alright? He hasn’t completely retreated to the dark, has he?”

Shrugging, Jade exhales through her mouth. “He’s quiet. Heartbroken. But he’s still around, sitting quietly in his chair some of the time, controlling the light sometimes. I don’t even think he wants to come out really. But that’s part of the problem! We are all stuck with Dennis and Barry and neither of them are coping in healthy fashion. Next thing you know, we will have a whole host of new alters created to cope with their damn dramatics.”

“Jade. What happened? Is Casey alright? Nothing...illegal occurred, correct?”

Waving the words off, Jade rolls her eyes. “Illegal? No. Risqué’ and stupid? Yes. Dennis and Casey ended up doing the horizontal tango apparently. Heard it was ‘accidental’ but I think that’s a load of bull on both of their parts. I didn’t see, so can’t say for sure. Dennis is good at blocking us out of anything he doesn’t want us to see. Fucking dirty bastard that he is. Patricia might know, she’s the only one that has any control over him.”

Dr. Fletcher looked slightly queasy, but Jade could tell she was trying to suppress the reaction to the information.

“Did you want to speak with Patricia? I just wanted to get us in here, because Barry and Dennis are going to get us thrown into the looney bin.”

The doctor shakes her head. “I want to speak with Kevin. Bring him forward, if you will.”

Jade looks around with exasperation, shifting in her seat restlessly. “Okay. I’ll try. I can’t guarantee that there won’t be any crying. He’s sensitive, you know.”

It takes a moment, but Dr. Fletcher watches as the body stature changes, becomes masculine, the eyes becoming sorrowful and pained right before her gaze. “Kevin?”

He rubs a hand over his eyes, keeps his hand there for a moment. Then he inhales shakily before finally looking at her. The lines of his body scream agony. “Hey, Dr. Fletcher. How are you?”

Dr. Fletcher’s heart breaks for him in that instant. “Kevin. I’m fine, I’m worried for you. I heard what happened. Jade is very concerned for all of you. She told me her version of what happened, but could you help me understand why all of this even happened? You and Casey were doing so well!”

He flinches when he hears her name. “I don’t know what happened. She went off the grid for an entire night. Then most of the next day. I was worried, she never usually acts that way. It was strange. She wasn’t herself and she kept pushing me away. I saw her doing it, I knew what she was doing, but I thought if I gave her space, it would get better.”

“It didn’t?”

“No. She came to my place the next day. She was distraught, going off about trust and the lack thereof. About her and…Dennis. Things I just couldn’t know. She just kept telling me it was better for all of us if she left, that she was just causing more pain. It didn’t make any sense. I…I love her.”

Indeed. Something did not make sense to Dr. Fletcher. “If all was going so well, why did she do all of this? What was the sudden change? It is very reminiscent of someone being set off by a past trauma or harm, pushing everyone away from them. You know how this is.”

He nods, rubbing his neck nervously. “I shouldn’t tell you. She wouldn’t want me to. But she was abused. Since childhood. By her uncle.”

Sickness churns in Dr. Fletcher’s stomach at the confession. She had no idea. The young woman had mentioned nothing to her when they met. Clarity comes to her instantly. “Is there a chance that something happened with her uncle in the recent days? Something that would set her off this way?”

Kevin shakes his head, looking lost. “He showed up at the car shop many weeks ago and was talking with her, but she was mostly fine after that.”

“Could it be something you didn’t see? Perhaps something worse happened? She could be hurting and scared, too afraid to let you in. I see this attitude all the time, Kevin. It isn’t unusual. If she feels about you the way you feel about her, she most likely wants you to be as far from her trouble as possible. In her mind, she’s protecting you from whatever darkness is eating her,” Dr. Fletcher says seriously.

A glimmer of hope appears in Kevin’s eyes before it fades out. “Even if that were true and she’d be willing to come back, she’s right about one thing; I have no control over the Dennis situation. I can’t share the light with him when he is in control. I can’t see anything. I completely lose track of time. With some alters, I get bits and pieces of what is happening, but with him it’s all black.”

“That would be the nature of him,” Dr. Fletcher states. “You created him to protect you from some of the most horrible aspects of your childhood. He is your shield and he acts as such. You _can_ change this. He can change this. But it won’t be easy. May I speak with him, Kevin? This is something that will take concentration and patience; you will have to allow yourself to exist together without a block, like you do with the other alters.”

Kevin looks uneasy, eyes looking everywhere but at the doctor. Breathing deeply, he says, “I can try to bring him forward. I don’t want to, but I’ll do it because you think it will help.”

Dr. Fletcher watches with apprehension as Kevin cracks his neck slowly, precisely, a frown marring his brow slightly. His left eyebrow pops up precariously, as if daring her to question his authority, his eyes suddenly a stormy dark blue. His shoulders seem to broaden, becoming more square, aggressive in posture.

No, Dr. Fletcher has certainly never met this alter of Kevin’s.

He blinks at her rapidly, licks his bottom lip with the air of a nervous habit. There is no mistaking the look of displeasure on his face.

“Dennis?” Dr. Fletcher asks hesitantly, unsure. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Dr. Fletcher, Kevin’s…and your doctor.”

He leans forward and squints his eyes. Dr. Fletcher gets the distinct impression that Dennis can’t see well, as he leans back into his chair after squinting at her hard for a few seconds. “Sorry,” he drawls, a very low tone with a hint of growl at the bottom. “It appears no one brought my glasses.”

“I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, but Jade has brought to my attention that Kevin has been…well, thrown into disarray after this incident with Casey,” Dr. Fletcher starts, watching as the frown deepens on Dennis’s face. “Is this your impression as well?”

Dennis closes his eyes briefly and rubs a hand over his scalp. “Most of us are struggling.”

Dr. Fletcher leans forward with curiosity. “And you? Has the loss of Casey been hard on you as well?”

His lips tighten and he looks away from her, refuses to meet her gaze. Dr. Fletcher can see the answer in the way his chest rises and falls slightly faster. “I don’t want to talk about that,” he says slowly.

The doctor clasps her hands, watching him carefully. He’s not much of a talker, but his body language seems to speak volumes for him. He is probably unaware of the fact, but Dr. Fletcher is not. “Dennis, there is no shame in feeling strongly about someone else. You are allowed to feel.”

The glower he sends her way is intimidating despite the fact that she knows he can barely see her. “If you brought me here to talk about feelings, you are going to be disappointed.”

Dr. Fletcher frowns, realizes that he is a much tougher cookie than she could have imagined. All the descriptions of Dennis that had been told to her in the past did not prepare her for him at all. He truly is the product of his childhood abuse. Emotionally closed off and brusque, unwilling to let anyone else in to see any of his perceived weaknesses. “Dennis. I see that you are strong, I’ve been told you are the strongest of all of Kevin’s alters. You’ve always taken care of him when no one else could. May I ask something of you?”

He crosses his arms. “You may ask.”

It is left unsaid that he may not answer.

“Dennis, Kevin mentioned to me that Casey left partially due to trust issues. Her concern was around the fact that you and Kevin are not cohesive together. When you are in control, there is no Kevin. And to say it lightly, you don’t have the best self-control around young women.”

A muscle in Dennis’s face twitches with irritation. “What are you getting at?”

Dr. Fletcher takes a deep breath. “I know you were necessary, Dennis. To protect Kevin from all that happened to him as a child. You are the wall that keeps him from seeing things no one should suffer from. But now he needs you to drop that wall, Dennis. He needs you to begin allowing him visibility into you when you have the light.”

The frown on Dennis’s face deepens and he leans away from her. “I can’t do that. I would be failing him if I allowed him visibility.”

“You’re failing him now by not allowing him in. Casey is slipping away from you both. What if Kevin could help you with your interactions with her, Dennis? Would that not be beneficial to you? Could it be possible that the emotional intimacy that Casey shares with Kevin would then be able to extend to you?”

The older woman watches as thousands of thoughts race across his dark blue gaze. She sees the longing that he wants to keep hidden from everyone. _He wants that_ , she thinks _, he wants something more with Casey than he had before._

Then, he comes to himself and shakes his head slowly, a single eyebrow rising again. “My purpose is to protect Kevin. If I allow him in…what use am I? What purpose do I serve if Kevin is able to glimpse through my eyes when I have control?”

“Dennis, this isn’t accurate. You will always have purpose to Kevin. You have always been what he needed, when he needed the most. Now he needs you to open up, let go of this iron control you have on the light. Let him peak through, if only a bit. You could have moments of leveling each other out.”

Dennis’s lip curls slightly as he shakes his head. “It’s a terrible idea. He’s at risk of seeing my memories. Everything I’ve kept hidden from him since childhood. He’s not strong enough; our mother was a monster. He has no idea… _you_ have _no_ idea what I’ve been through.”

Dr. Fletcher is well aware that there are things that Kevin is unaware of; things that she is even unaware of. Kevin was present for some of his trauma, but much of the true horror had been blacked out from what he told her. Dennis took the brunt of everything. Kevin’s mind broke when he was very young, too sensitive to handle the strain levied against it.

But Kevin has gotten stronger with age. Dr. Fletcher knows he will never be as strong as Dennis, but perhaps removing the complete wall between them would allow some of their personal edges to smooth out over time.

“What if this can help you bring Casey back? Would you try then?” Dr. Fletcher asks, hoping to see a bit of give in his facial expression.

He doesn’t answer, going still for a moment, so the doctor presses on. She knows what his weakness is already, his body has given up the game. “Don’t you want Casey to come back to you?”

Though he doesn’t say anything, she sees the answer in his eyes and knows there is nothing in the world that he wants more.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Split and all of the characters belong to M. Night Shyamalan. 
> 
> **AN:** Yes, I am back. And it is finally done. I refused to allow myself to drag this on to a chapter 9 because I think we all need closure! I will most likely end up writing some oneshots in this AU over time, as I had way too much fun with these characters.

It isn’t easy, but God knows they try.

And try.

And try some more.

In the safety of their home, Kevin envisions falling out of the light, imagines letting Dennis take control. _I’m letting go now, Dennis,_ he thinks as he begins to fade from consciousness. _Please let this work._

He lets go, but instead of being able to peek through his own eyes from his chair inside his own mind, everything goes black.

When he takes consciousness again, he finds that another day of work has passed. His fists clench and Kevin growls, “Dammit, Dennis!”

He tries again, before bed. It clearly doesn’t work because he wakes up at the zoo, bottle feeding one of the baby chimpanzees. The brief moment of confusion gives way to anger because Kevin wants this to work. He wants Casey back in his life, in his arms, and in his bed, but she isn’t going to come back if he can’t control the uncontrollable alter at least an inch.

Kevin looks down at the infant animal in his arms and tries to clear his thoughts, tries to calm himself down. The majority of his adult life had been lived alone with the occasional companion coming and going. Kevin had always hidden who he really was the best he could. He always made sure that no one ever stayed long enough to truly understand him or know him beyond what they got at face value.

Casey was different. She was kind, fragile and strong all mixed into one. She understood him the way that he found he understood her. She was his other half, she made him whole. Casey didn’t judge him for what had happened to his body in the past. She didn’t judge him for having multiple personalities, although the argument could be made that she _did_ judge Dennis.

There were no other words for it; Kevin wanted to be with her and her alone. Without her, his world is cold and empty once more. He wants to make a life with her, like a normal adult man. He wants a home with her, a place that is theirs, maybe even a family…

But he’s twisted and broken and maybe he shouldn’t want such things. Maybe he isn’t worthy. He’s not worthy of _her_.

 _Don’t be sad, Kevin. I don’t like it when you’re sad, et cetera,_ Hedwig intones in his mind softly.  


***  


They try again later that night when Kevin is feeling particularly down. He tells Dennis in the back of his mind to open up, to let him in when they make the shift.

 _Please, Dennis,_ he thinks tiredly, _stop trying to protect me from the past. I’m a big boy now and we need to do this._

He can sense his alter frowning at him from his chair, considering. Kevin can never quite tell what is going on in Dennis’s mind, can’t quite see what is going on behind his stormy gaze. Dennis only does what Dennis wants to do and Patricia is the only one who has any say otherwise, but she isn’t helping much tonight.

Not that Patricia helps all that much anyway when it comes to things like these. Patricia and Dennis are a pair of tyrants, after all. Luckily, Patricia’s brand of fierce is slightly more calculated and level headed.

Kevin drops out of the light and back into darkness as Dennis sits up from his chair and takes control.

Kevin’s consciousness is asleep, oblivious.

 _Are you even trying?_ Jade yells at Dennis nastily from her seat. _Don’t you want her back?_

Dennis’s heart twists painfully and he grits his teeth. No, Dennis doesn’t want her back, he doesn’t fucking want her back.

  
***

The wall between Kevin and Dennis breaks unexpectedly one night after failure after failure.

It catches Dennis by surprise when it happens. In fact, he gets caught with his pants down.

The thing that Dennis has always had going for him is his capability of blocking the other alters from his mind at will. What was originally made out of necessity eventually became a guilty pleasure that he kept close. When Dennis had come into being, Kevin had effectively made him as the shield, the protector who would make sure Kevin was kept far away from the horror happening around him.

Kevin would sleep and he would never see through Dennis’s eyes or hear through his ears, feel the sting of a power cord whipping through his flesh. This was Dennis’s purpose, his reason for being; keep Kevin in the dark when he needed to be shielded.

The other alters could interact with Dennis when he had the light, but soon he found that he could also push the majority of them into darkness as well for a short time. This discovery had led to…well…it had led to things that Dennis didn’t really like to talk about.

Private things. Disgusting things.

 _You’re a disgusting, filthy little monster. Why are you so disgusting? Get your hand away from that…that…thing! It isn’t a toy and good little boys don’t touch it like that!_ His mother’s words ring through his mind briefly and he pushes them away, tries shifting his mind to other memories.

The memory has been with him for as long as he can remember and every time he thinks of it, he can see it clear as glass, his emotional reaction had been so strong that day. Shame. Humiliation. Horror.  He didn’t understand why something that felt so good would be so _wrong_. Her reaction had been an explosion of rage and revulsion.

She’d hit him so hard between his legs that he had vomited on her floor, her wood floor. He remembered the incoherent terror that had swarmed him, staring at that pile of bile, knowing she would lose her mind even further.

_Clean it up, clean it! Use your hands, you filthy boy!_

She’d rubbed his face in it, like a dog. He’d nearly thrown up again, heaving until his chest hurt. Almost suffocated under his panic. It was dirty and he needed to clean it up before she hurt him more.

_That’s it, clean your disgusting mess! I hope you’ve learned your lesson; I’d better not catch you touching yourself like that again. You will regret it. Who could ever love something as loathsome as you? You’re filth, Kevin._

Sighing heavily, Dennis closes his eyes and forcefully thinks of something else. He won’t let a memory ruin what he has planned. He lays on his bed, on his back, unzips his pants slowly, precisely. He eases the material down his hips and proceeds to handle himself the way his mother told him he never should.

It doesn’t take long for him to get hard, listlessly thinking of tits and asses, all without a face attached. He doesn’t want to think about Casey or the way she moves when he’s inside of her because _she left him she left him and he doesn’t want her back._

He slides his fist up and down firmly, pulling at his engorged flesh, his sack heavy between his thighs as he pushes into his hand with need. Brown doe eyes flash through his imagination and liquid heat pools in his lower abdomen even as he furiously tries to think of anything but those soft eyes that belong to a goddamn angel.

He doesn’t want to think about her anymore.

Dennis tries to replace images of her with anyone else. Strippers, even one night stands that he treated little better than paid whores. His traitorous mind circles back to Casey without fail and he hates that he throbs harder in his fist every time he thinks of her under him, thinks of shoving his cock down her throat, tears on her cheeks as she swallows him down.

Moaning at the thought, Dennis thrusts up into his hand harder and doesn’t fucking wish she were here. Doesn’t wish he could watch her tongue his slit and taste his excitement as it makes him slippery in his punishing grasp.

When he comes the first time, he growls low in his throat, still unsatisfied despite his body singing with pleasure. He wants more, he always wants more. He remains hard in his hand, his fluids pooled on his taut stomach.

His chest heaves with his furious inhales and exhales.

He’s so angry at her and she fills his mind to its entirety. Dennis doesn’t even want anyone else and it’s killing him because he’s never done attachment, doesn’t like commitment. Emotions were never meant for someone like him, but here they fucking are.  

How dare Casey make him feel like this and then leave him?

Dennis rolls onto his side, fisting himself harder, panting. Imagines punishing her for what she’s done, what she’s reduced him to. He imagines fucking her so hard into his sheets that she slits his back open with her nails, rivulets of blood dripping down his skin. Or bending her naked form over his lap, spanking her hard as she shakes like a leaf on him.

He’d finger her hard, even as she told him she was sorry for what she did, she’d probably beg him to stop, but he’d shove up into her until she exploded around his digits, her face red with humiliation, because she’s too weak and her body wants his and always will.

He’s really not succeeding in not thinking about her and it’s infuriating.

Another orgasm is building inside of Dennis and he tenses and strains, his hips working hard into his fist, pressing hard into the mattress as he rolls onto his stomach. God, he wants to come in her again.

Strangely, in the back of his mind he feels someone rifling through his memories and that strikes Dennis as odd. For a moment, the heat in his groin stalls as he examines who is looking at his memories and thoughts, looking at things they have no business looking at.

His heart stops when he realizes the consciousness staring into his mind is Kevin.

The very person he’s been trying to protect from every sick thought and memory that lives inside of Dennis.

He can even feel the distinct sting of Kevin’s disapproval.

Kevin examines the image in Dennis’s mind, silently looking at how Dennis sees Casey, her fragile, naked form below him. Panting, Dennis expects him to say something, anything, but Kevin doesn’t. “How…how did you do it?” Dennis asks aloud, furious that his impervious wall has been broken.

Kevin doesn’t need to see Dennis’s mind, no matter what Kevin thinks.

 _Barry helped. He knew you were distracted,_ Kevin intones from his chair, awake and furious.

For a moment, Dennis feels shame being caught with his hand around his cock. Kevin is seeing the fantasy that had been playing out in his mind, seeing his private thoughts, dark and depraved. Kevin can see him for the animal that he truly is and Dennis is not okay with this.

“Barry should mind his own damn business,” Dennis hisses.

Kevin doesn’t respond, simply sharing Dennis’s stream of consciousness. Staring at his fantasy. _You wouldn’t hurt Casey, would you?_

Dennis sags against the mattress and groans in frustration. His erection begins to fade. “Of course I wouldn’t hurt her. It’s just a fantasy. I get off on power and control, if you haven’t figured it out.”

 _I’ve never spent time wondering about what gets you off, to be honest,_ Kevin says bluntly. _But now I’m worried._

 _Tell me ‘bout it. I’m scarred fer life,_ Barry adds snidely.

Dennis hates him for a brief moment. They’ve always had a sibling rivalry of sorts, he and Barry.

Sighing, Dennis rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling with blurry eyes. His glasses are on the bedside table. “Even though…uh…I feel like snapping her neck at the moment, I…wouldn’t hurt her. Not unless she wanted me to. She’s mine. Ours.”

 _So, you do feel pain then. I had always figured you felt nothing for her, that she was just another outlet for your needs,_ Kevin says with surprise, shifting forward in his chair. _What else are you hiding, Dennis?_

Kevin is curious, after all. He’s never seen through Dennis.

“No…don’t. Don’t do that. Kevin. Stop!”

But it’s too late; Kevin begins to look through what makes Dennis tick. What made him who he is.

The memories fly by, horrors that fill in the gaps in Kevin’s own memory. All the time that Kevin lost was made real suddenly, as if he had lived the moment himself. All the times their mother beat Dennis, whipped him with power cords, pushed him down the stairs, humiliated him…all of it was highlighted on display for Kevin to view at will.

Dennis can feel Kevin’s horror and pity, his shame. It washes over him in a wave and its almost as bad as reliving the memories themselves.

Kevin moves onto memories from more recent years, sees the things that Dennis hid from all of the alters. With a sticky feeling of disgust, Kevin watches Dennis at strip clubs, sees him paying girls in the back rooms, feels ill because he can’t believe his body was involved in such things.

Or the cheap desperate women at bars, the ones who were too sad and drunk to care about who took them home as long as it made them forget their own shitty lives. Dennis never cared for a single one, but all served the only purpose he wanted them for.

Dennis can feel Kevin’s relief when he figures that all of these memories are from before Casey came into their lives.

“Did you really think I would do that to her?” Dennis asks flatly, strangely insulted.

Kevin doesn’t respond immediately, an aura of revulsion hovering about his stream of thought. _Who knew this was what you got up to when everyone was sleeping?_

The reproach in his voice pisses Dennis off. Kevin can’t understand, and how can he? “I’ve carried this fucking ship from childhood. I’ve kept us sane. Me. I’ve kept our job, a roof over our head. I think I deserved to have what I wanted.”

 _Well, you sure showed us, didn’t you?_ Kevin’s tone is disappointed, remorseful.

Suddenly, there is a strong push and Dennis feels himself falling into his chair, out of the light. For a moment he sputters; Kevin had just taken control from him. That isn’t…supposed to be possible.

Kevin sits up in bed and grimaces as his hand lands in stickiness. Despite the slog through a dark memory lane, Kevin feels powerful for once in his life. He’s taken the light for himself and he’s faced some of the worst things he could imagine happening to his body.

Including the strippers.

His mother though…Kevin’s mind still cringed away from those memories, didn’t want to look. The things he saw, he did not remember happening to him, but seeing them happen to his body…phantom pains spread across his body. Ghosts of former torment.

But Kevin didn’t break. His mind didn’t shatter. His heart ached instead, mourning a childhood suffered by someone else in his body. Someone who suffered horrors in his place without question. Someone he simply couldn’t hate despite their faults, because Kevin could now see they were both a broken pair coping in the only way they knew how.

Kevin sighs gloomily. “It’s been a treat, Dennis, but now we are going to do things my way. Enough with the angry moping; we are getting her back.”

 _We?_ Dennis asks mutinously.

Kevin stomps into the bathroom and hops into the shower, trying to scrub imaginary filth from his body. He can still hear his mother’s voice screaming in his head, feel the aches and pain in his body. The strange tortures she thought up just to humiliate and belittle him.

All of it was a horrorshow, a litany of misery and rage in Dennis’s mind and Kevin feels guilt that he allowed his alter to suffer through it all alone for all of these years. Kevin has been a coward, he’s been one all along. That’s about to change.

“Yes, Dennis. _We_. I know you want her back just as bad as I do.”

* * *

 

On Saturday, Kevin decides it’s time to make his bid for Casey to come back. He knows she won’t have work and he took the day off ahead of time. He can’t afford to put this off any longer, considering he knows that he truly has no idea why Casey left in the first place.

If it truly had to do with her uncle, well, then Kevin needed to make sure she was safe and not spiraling out of control due to her own trauma. Texting her or calling her was not going to work, because calls and texts could easily be ignored.

Casey is hiding and when someone like her wanted to be buried, they could bury themselves so deep that no one could hope find them until they came up for air. The Casey that broke up with Kevin was not the Casey he knew, but a shadow of her.

He goes in the early afternoon after spending the morning pacing with nerves. Deep down, Kevin worried that she truly did not want him back. Perhaps it truly was because of his DID and she simply was tired of him.

Perhaps she didn’t want him anymore and the idea is soul crushing.

When he arrives at her place, Kevin sighs and rests his head on the steering wheel of his car. His heart is beating madly and he’s terrified. The idea of her rejecting him again is making his anxiety shoot through the roof. She may as well put the nail in his coffin if she tells him she won’t take him back.

 _Get out of the car and walk up there! Stop thinking about what might happen,_ Jade snaps, impatient as always.

 _Yeah. You go up there. I miss my friend. She’s cool and she can almost dance, et cetera,_ Hedwig joins in eagerly, his excitement palpable.

Patricia rolls her eyes. _Oh, don’t mind me, love. You are going to do this with or without my say, it seems._

Dennis gives him the push of strength he needs to step out of the car and walk into the building.

As he climbs the stairs, Kevin hears a loud shout come from an upper floor, a shout he recognizes painfully. “Casey,” he says softly, staring up at the winding stairs.

Kevin takes two at a time, rushing to get to her apartment door. Outside of it, he can acutely hear the sounds of an argument, one voice Casey’s and the other belonging to a gruff man. Kevin’s heart sinks; her uncle had come over. He hears a loud crash and a shout and feels his bones freeze in place.

He’s momentarily paralyzed.

His mother comes to mind, throwing plates at him, yelling at him when blood dripped on the floor. Dennis’s memories flash by and he tries to drown them out; he can’t afford to be weak now. Not when Casey needs him.

Kevin’s limbs shake with fear and effort. For a moment, he is trapped in his own mind, listlessly seeing memories of things that happened to his body, but not to him. _Ignore it. Open the damn door or I will,_ Dennis says, his dark voice cutting through the memories holding Kevin captive.

Reaching a shaking hand out, Kevin touches the door knob, twisting it slowly, anxiously. It’s locked. “I can’t get in. I can’t go in there,” he whispers, trembling.

Dennis sees his thoughts, sees that he’s terrified of facing the bear of a man behind the door, tormenting Casey. _You’re going in there,_ Dennis sneers before stepping fully into Kevin’s consciousness.

He raps his knuckles against the door hard, a warning to those inside. John yells from the other side, “None of your business, fuck off!”

Inhaling hard, Dennis glances at the door and then slams his shoulder into it hard. The door creaks, gives. It isn’t the best door and he is strong. He knows how to get what he wants and no door is standing in his way. After slamming his shoulder into the door again and bashing his foot down hard by the knob, the frame finally cracks where the door knob bolt would be, blasting through the wood.

Dennis steps into the apartment, but steps back mentally to allow Kevin to take his place.

The sight that greets him is chaos. Tables are overturned, lamps broken on the floor. Casey’s face is red from being hit, tears streaming down her face as her Uncle fists her hair hard. She’s like a broken butterfly in his grasp, her eyes sorrowful and filled with terror. When she sees Kevin, her eyes become filled with shock and fear. “Kevin,” she cries out, “What are you doing here? You can’t be here.”

She’s terrified for him and Kevin doesn’t understand why. Furious at the abuse she suffered in his absence, he turns his fury on Uncle John, the man gaping like a fish at being interrupted.

“Let her go,” Kevin snaps, face red. He thrives on the fury he feels coming from Dennis, his stream of thought boosting him away from his anxiety and fear.

John pivots on his heel slightly, his face twisted. He drops Casey from his grasp and she falls to the ground, resting on her knees dejectedly. The shame and brokenness on her face tears at Kevin’s soul and he feels Dennis raging in the back of his mind with murderous intent.

“Just who the hell do you think you are? I’ve seen you hanging around my niece before and it stops now,” John snarled, hunching his shoulders with hostility.

Kevin knows who he is. “I’m her-” but he stops himself, cuts himself short. His words fail him momentarily, because he isn’t her boyfriend anymore. What is he without her? “I’m…I’m hers,” he finally says, “And I won’t allow you treat her this way anymore. I know what you’ve done and it’s over.”

In his head, he hears Dennis sneer, _she’s ours, not the other way around._

Jade pipes in with surprising venom. _Oh please, you can’t even control yourself around her, she clearly owns you, Dennis. She owns you more than she owns any of us. You savage._

“Oh, what’s this you’re saying now? You won’t _allow me_? You know nothing. She’s my niece and you have no fucking say,” John growls.

The situation is going sideways and Kevin knows this won’t get solved with words. John is too invested in what he believes is his, what has been his unwillingly for years. Kevin sees that he won’t let go easily, the man has too much at stake.

But Kevin…Kevin isn’t willing to back down this time. He feels his nerves sliding around under his skin, feels vast discomfort. He wants to crawl inside of himself and hide, he doesn’t want this confrontation. It reminds him of his mother and her cruelty, the way he would duck into himself as she started screaming and beating him.

How he would replace himself with Dennis. How Dennis took the brunt in his place time after time so Kevin could have his respite.

A surprisingly amount of courage fills him and he knows it isn’t coming from himself, but Dennis. His alter has no desire to back down from this situation and his feelings seep into Kevin, making him straighten his back and glower at the giant bear of a man. “That’s too bad you think that. I’m not going anywhere,” Kevin says stiffly, his jaw tight.

Casey stares at Kevin through her tears, her gentle brown eyes studying him with surprise. “…Kevin…” she whispers in wonder, tears making her tone thick.

The old Kevin would have disappeared into darkness in a situation like this. Not now though, Kevin is improved. He’s evolved into something far more powerful. He won’t fail Casey anymore. He doesn’t ever want to see the disappointment in her eyes again.

Hearing her say Kevin’s name, John scowls down at Casey and grabs her by her hair. She cries out with a mix of pain and fury, her fingers scrabbling at his large hand. Her nails draw blood, but John doesn’t even flinch as he hisses, “Don’t fucking look at him like he’s going to save you. You’ve forgotten everything I’ve done for you, you ungrateful girl!”

“Let go of me,” Casey shrieks, thrashing in his brutal grasp.

For a moment, Kevin sees red and the only thing screaming through his mind are the words _make him pay, I want his blood on our hands._

This dual sensation of having Dennis filling his stream of consciousness is jarring and slightly horrifying. Kevin is not an aggressive man, he’s never been filled with hostile urges and thoughts. Not like this. He can’t stop the thoughts though; the feeling of wrath is far too strong for him to contend with.

Kevin feels his body moving forward, every step in slow motion as he nears John. He grabs the man by the front of his sweater and John doesn’t have time to react when Kevin slams his fist hard into his face. Grunting, John lets go of Casey again and she scrambles away, moving to the far side of the room.

As Kevin could never face his abuser; neither could she. Kevin always needed the strength of someone else and he’s happy to be that person for her this time.

John whirls on him furiously. The man raises his fist, but Kevin is too fast, slamming his fist into his face harder, hearing the crack of John’s nose. Blood spurts everywhere and Kevin is ridiculously proud of himself.

_We are going to need to clean that up,_ Dennis thinks distantly, focusing on the carpeting with vague horror.

The larger man falls to his knees in pain, holding his face as blood seeps out through his fingers. Kevin sees a wounded man, but Dennis sees opportunity. He kicks the man over and grabs him by his beard, his fist ready once more. “Still want more?”

“You asshole,” John sneers, fury exploding in his dark eyes. Spitting blood out of his mouth, John then snarls, “She’s my responsibility! Mine! I have to take care of her.”

John freezes momentarily as Kevin crouches in front of him, his eyes going so dark they are nearly black. A furrow appeared on his brow ominously. If John didn’t know better, he would swear he is looking at another man entirely. When Kevin speaks, it’s with Dennis’s words, “Look at it this way. You had your turn; now she’s mine. Get that through your thick skull. You aren’t needed or welcome here anymore. If you bother her again, I’ll do something you won’t even have time to regret.”

Shocked, John growls, “Are you threatening me?”

Dennis shakes his head. “Of course not. I’m promising you. Now. Get. Out.”

Standing up, John staggers briefly, looking to Casey in surprise. “Casey-bear…surely…tell me this isn’t what you want!”

Casey stands against the far wall, her eyes hard, arms crossed protectively over her chest. She averts her face, looking away from her Uncle and his sagging expression. Her cheek is beginning to bruise. “You heard him, Uncle John. Please. Just go.”

She doesn’t want to see the destroyed look on his face.

The nature of their relationship always was that he never understood the damage he had caused. He was a blunt force object and Casey was nail that bore his abuse. His idea of love and care was her idea of misery.

All she had ever wanted was his love, despite all the pain, but all she ever got was nightmares and a drawer full of pills and razorblades.

John’s voice turns soft, nervous. “Casey-bear. Sweetie. I love you. You know that.”

She sniffs, swallowing hard as she stares at the far wall. Tears fall down her cheeks. “I know. And that’s why you need to let me go, John. If you truly love me, you will let me go and you will let me go for good.”

Uncle John rubs a hand over his face, covers his eyes briefly. He then pins Casey with one more look, then storms out the door in silence.

Kevin watches him go, sees the anger in the man’s eyes as they connect with his. John blames him for this and that’s okay.

Dennis wants to go after him, show him the meaning of pain. Crush his windpipe with his hands…

Kevin pushes the stream of thought away quickly, doesn’t like how his body heats with anger with Dennis’s volatile emotions.

As long as John never bothers Casey again, Kevin doesn’t care where the man goes.   
  


* * *

 

The door is a mess and Kevin has to fiddle with it briefly in order to get it to shut with the busted frame. Dennis was not subtle when he blasted the door down. The silence is deafening as Casey remains sagged against the far wall, face in hands.

With the door somewhat shut, but not really locked due to the busted jam, Kevin wipes his hands on his jeans. Waiting. Waiting for her to acknowledge him again. He knows she has so much to process right now.  


***  


 Casey turns to stare at the man standing nervously in the middle of her kitchen. Kevin is looking at her anxiously, his soft blue eyes staring at her like he’s afraid he will never see her again. She doesn’t even know how he came to be here, in her apartment, but he saved her. Like a white knight in shining armor. The idea is ridiculous, but true.

Her cheek burns, inflamed with blood under her skin from where John had struck her.

“You came back, even after all I said to make you give me up,” Casey says quietly, studying him.

There’s something about him. Something different. She can’t quite put her finger on it though.

Kevin didn’t cower in front of Uncle John and Dennis didn’t kill him. Instead, they had given Uncle John enough crazy to make the man think twice about messing with Casey again. Perhaps for good. All this time, Casey had feared that Kevin would get hurt, that Dennis would get Kevin thrown in jail, yet none of that happened. It almost made Casey feel like the breakup had all been a mistake contrived by her terror fueled mind.

She’d been a freaking idiot.

“Of course I came back for you. I already told you, Casey; you’re my world.”

Despite her body aching from her brief brawl with Uncle John, Casey’s heart sings gleefully at his words. “How could you want to be with me after how I left you? I was…I was cruel on purpose. I wanted you to forget I existed so you could be safe from Uncle John.”

Kevin laughs and the sound is like heaven to her ears. She hasn’t heard him laugh in so long, hasn’t heard his voice…she’s missed him like a drowning person misses air. “You thought that man could keep me from you? Casey, what the hell were you thinking? I’m crazy about you and no abusive Uncle is keeping me from you. Not in one million years.”

How could he be so perfect? “Do you forgive me, for the things I said to you? On that day?”

“I would forgive you for just about anything, Casey. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Stepping away from the wall, Casey slowly approaches him, trying to hold back her tears. She’s cried enough for one night. “What did I do to deserve you,” she breathes out, gazing up at him. “I’ve only brought you misery. All of you.”

He steps forward and caresses her bruised cheek with a featherlight touch. “We’ve had a few bumps in the road. Sure. But. You brought us so much more, you’ve given us all new life. I don’t want to be without you ever again, Casey.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “Even Patricia?”

That crazy, tyrannical old broad.

Kevin’s lip twitches with the ghost of smile. “She will deal. She’s got no choice this time, because I intend to stay with you for as long as you will allow.”

Casey steps ever closer, her lips nearly touching his. As she speaks, her breathe caresses his skin and his eyes dilate subtly. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you away. I wasn’t…in my right mind at the time.”

He takes her hand in his, gives her a look from under lowered lashes. “So…do you want to make up with us properly?”

Casey blinks up at him in confusion. “…Us?”

There is definitely something different about him; it isn’t like she hasn’t noticed.

Kevin’s lips quirk slightly. As Casey studies him, she sees something in his eyes, a unified mixture of sweet and storm that she’s never seen before.  He gives her a slight wink and pulls her towards the bedroom. “Don’t be nervous.”

She flushes, understands the implications in a rush. “You dropped the block, didn’t you? In your mind. So, you can see through Dennis’s eyes? Kevin…does that mean…are you…alright?”

Her concern touches him, the fact that she worried more for his mental safety than anything else. Kevin kisses her forehead and nods. “I’ve never been better.”

When she lets him lead her to the bed, watches as he carefully folds his clothes by bed, sees the way he watches her skin hungrily, yet touches her body adoringly, she knows.

Casey may have walked into the bedroom with one other warm body, but that body has two active streams of consciousness.

While Dennis’s influence is hungry and possessive, Kevin smooths his edges with affection and adulation. Casey thinks that perhaps she would have this no other way.

Between the two of them, she’s wanted and loved and they leave no room for shame or pain and it’s perfection in the form of skin on skin.

 

***

 

“About my door…you’re going to fix that, right?”

She says it over cereal the next morning, watching as Dennis locks eyes with her over the rim of his coffee cup, the storm infused gaze that makes her sweat.

He takes his coffee black. She knows that now. Every morning, even the mornings he doesn’t have work.

The look in his eyes tells her that he thinks her question is stupid, but he’s going to fix her damn door because she asked. Casey flushes and looks away, doesn’t need to hear his rough voice to know.

He sets the coffee down precisely and pins her with a raw look that sends her heart thudding, her stomach dropping.

Casey finds herself on her back, trapped willingly under his body, sweating on the floor in a way that she knows will set his OCD off later. He’d hiked up her nightgown and only pulled his sweats down a bit, just enough for their bodies to connect as one again, as they had many times the night before. She licks at his mouth and he shudders, because she's never kissed him before, she's always saved her lips for Kevin. 

Well, there was that one time, but she thought he was Kevin then, so that doesn't count.

She feels so small beneath him, powerless as his tongue greedily delves into her mouth, his hand in her hair as his snaps his hips. 

She winces as his thrusts become too much, she’s sore, and a whimper escapes her throat weakly. He pauses his movements and looks at her, Kevin’s influence seeping into his dilated eyes. “What’s not working?”

That gravelly voice of his makes her swoon briefly.

Flushing, Casey says with some embarrassment, “I’m sore…and…you’re a little rough right now.”

She expects him to not listen to her; he probably wouldn’t have before his evolution with Kevin. Now though, he softens, mouths her neck with his teeth as he only grinds his hips against hers slowly, no longer thrusting. The bruised and split knuckles of his right hand tighten on her thigh.

Casey sighs and sags into the kitchen tile. This works. This works a lot. His pubic bone rubbing her just the right way…

Moments after they both reach completion, Dennis stands up, adjusts his sweats, and walks away. Casey sits up from her place on the ground and frowns, hurt. Why is he always like this? “Where are you going?”

He snorts from the other room. Dismissive. “Fixing your door.”

Incredulous, Casey snaps, “Now? Right now?”

Dennis only grunts his response. This is what she had asked for, isn’t it? Before she distracted him with those doe eyes over his coffee, indecisive waif…

From his chair, watching through Dennis’s eyes, Kevin laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always love. You all make me smile with your thoughtful words! 
> 
> I suspect I will write some follow up oneshots to this story...we shall see. I imagine I won't be able to leave them alone for long XD

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos fuel me!! Let me know what you think!


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